


Forget Me Not

by minhonew



Category: One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, F/M, M/M, Mpreg, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 41,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6236989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minhonew/pseuds/minhonew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two of them came from different sides of the spectrum; Harry Styles is poor, barely able to survive every single day of his lonely life, while Zayn Malik is rich, both in wealth and love, but he still feels something missing in his life.</p><p>Fate lets them meet and fall in love. Against his parent's wishes, Zayn chooses to be with Harry. Together, they work hard to keep their love and life afloat. However, one day it seems as though fate has gotten bored of giving them a taste of heaven and shoves them straight into hell instead. Zayn gets into an accident and forgets all about Harry, just as Harry finds out he's pregnant with their first child. </p><p>With the universe against them, how will Zayn and Harry find their way back to each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Welcome to Hell

**Author's Note:**

> This'll be quite the heavy drama! So if you do not enjoy Harry shedding endless amount of tears and being constantly trampled on, please do not continue reading.

Harry practically flies through the seemingly endless halls of the hospital, searching frantically for the room with which his fiancé is in. Chest heaving with the labored breaths that he's taking, Harry manages to locate room 408 after a few more turns, bumps and hurried apologies. He spares a quick glance to the name attached on the door and heads inside.

_Malik, Zayn_

Zayn is up when Harry enters the room. With a quick scan of Zayn's body and face, Harry is able to spot the injuries that he has received from the accident. Scratches litter the swollen right side of Zayn's face and his right arm is in a sling. From them alone, Harry is able to deduce that the right side of Zayn's body has gotten the brunt of the crash. Moving on, Harry's green eyes catch sight of bandages wrapped thickly around Zayn's head, a barely visible patch of blood seeping through it.

"Baby," Harry gasps in alarm, eyes welling up with tears. He rushes to gather Zayn's body in a tight embrace, so overwhelmed that he missed the stiffness of Zayn's body as a reaction. He pulls back and proceeds to gently cup Zayn's face in between his clammy palms. His wild green eyes boring into confused brown irises. "Zayn. My love. My life, don't you fucking scare me like that again, you hear? Oh, Zayn. What are you feeling? Do you want me to call the nurse? A doctor? Does it hurt anywhere?"

Using his uninjured hand, Zayn slowly pries Harry's hands away from his face. He then leans back against the pillows propped on his back, a suspicious expression on his face.

"Who the hell are you?"

Harry is taken aback. He tilts his head to the side and points to himself. "You don't know me?"

With a nod, Zayn says, "That's exactly the point of my question. So yes, I don't know you."

"I'm, uh, Harry," Harry says with a shrug, looking helpless and suddenly small, his shoulders slouched. "Zayn, if you're taking the piss, this is not funny."

Zayn frowns. "I'm not joking," he scoffs. "Why the fuck would I joke around in a time like this? I haven't seen your bloody face once in my life."

"Zayn, stop it," Harry pleads, his face contorted into an expression of pure pain. What is happening? "Please, s-stop. I'm Harry. I'm your--"

"Stalker."

"Mrs. Malik," Harry acknowledges softly, his head ducking down to avoid her accusing stare.

The door shuts close as Trisha Malik, in all her regal glory, and Gigi Hadid, Zayn's ex-girlfriend, enter the sterile room. Trisha gives Harry a look of contempt, her normally tranquil brown eyes blazing with anger. Gigi, on the other hand, pushes Harry to the side and gathers Zayn in a hug, kissing his cheek. Harry hears her ask, "Are you alright, love?" to which Zayn responds with a nod and a sweet little smile that Harry desperately wants one for himself.

"Zayn, sunshine," Trisha starts in a sickeningly sweet tone. A wicked smile is stretched across her painted lips. "Look into the face of the man who cost you half of your life."

"What?" Harry whispers to himself, baffled. He watches with absolutely no idea as Zayn turns from confused to furious in a matter of seconds, cheeks darkening with angered blood as realization dawns on him.

"What's he doing here?" Zayn growls.

"Harry Styles is completely mad for you. He follows you everywhere that you go."

"That's not true!" Harry finds himself protesting. He raises his left hand, letting Zayn see the glint of the 14k white gold ring that Zayn has given him during the night that he proposed. Harry knows that Zayn is wearing a similar one on his very own left ring finger because when the two of them have talked about their ring placements, they had decided to wear their rings on their exact same fingers.

"I'm his fiancé and we're getting married soon."

Gigi laughs humorlessly. "In your dreams," she huffs. Much to Harry's surprise, she picks her hand up and the sight of her hand intertwined with Zayn's breaks Harry's heart but the matching wedding rings turn the broken pieces ultimately into dust. "Zayn is my husband."

Trisha nods. She makes her way over to Harry and pulls him away from Zayn. "You've got some nerve, boy, for coming here when you're the reason my son is in so much pain."

"What do you mean, mum?"

"In a severe attempt to avoid Harry at all costs, you swerved into another lane and crashed into an oncoming car, love."

Harry's jaw drops in shock and then he shakes his head so hard he goes dizzy with it. "I d-didn't...I would n-never."

Zayn stares at Harry with dull, amber-colored eyes, his next words inflicting even more pain to Harry's entire being. "I can't remember the past 10 years because of your disgusting obsession with me?"

"No, she's lying." Harry points to Trisha, then Gigi. "They both are. Zayn, please, try to remember me. Your mum hates me and this is why she's making those stories up. They're not true, Zayn. Please believe me."

By now, Harry's tears are streaming down his flushed cheeks in two continuous streams. He places his hands on Zayn's blanket-covered feet, squeezing them gently. "Zayn, I'm your Harry."

Zayn yanks his feet back. He points to the door, livid. "Get out!"

"No, Zayn!"

"Leave and never come back!"

"Y-you don't mean that!"

"Get out!"

The growing commotion alerts the roaming security guards and they immediately enter Zayn's room. With one look at the scene, the two burly men grab each of Harry's arms. "Let's go, Sir."

"Take that boy away," Trisha orders loudly before whispering to one of the guard's ears. The man nods and resumes pulling on Harry's arm rather harshly.

Harry struggles with all his might, sobbing and kicking, but they're no use, especially since all of his energy, the fight, in him is gone the moment Zayn stared at him with hatred.

"Zayn, search your heart. Listen to it," he cries as his last desperate effort, half-way out of the door. "I know you'll find me in there."

Once out of the room, Harry turns limp. The security guards bring him to an empty room and deposit him on the bare bed. A few minutes later, the two men leave the room just as Trisha enters it.

"That was fun," she says with a mocking smile. "I've been wanting to hear my son say that to you for years."

Harry sniffs, head lowered. "What did you do to him?"

"I gave him his life back," Trisha replies, glaring at Harry. Both of her eyes hold so much hatred, it's insane. "I've raised Zayn with nothing but the best. We provided for him, gave him all the things he wanted and more. My son hasn't worked a day in his life and I made sure it stayed that way until my husband and I passed on. But then, you came along. A gold digger nobody that my beloved son chose over his parents and the luxurious life that he has. I will never understand the power that you have over him, but I'm glad that it's over now. Zayn is free of your hold."

"I did nothing to your son," Harry defends himself, his voice coming out stronger than his feelings. "All I gave him is my love and devotion, which is apparently what your money failed to provide."

Anger crosses Trisha's face. She scoffs. "Love and devotion won't keep you alive."

"But, it made Zayn truly happy."

"If you want Zayn to be truly happy as you say, you will let him go. Haven't you noticed what your "love" and "devotion" did to him? My Zayn lost so much weight! He's so thin and exhausted. The son that I've raised with nothing but the best is now working as a grocery store clerk. A bloody bagger! If he didn't choose you, he would have been the owner of that grocery store!"

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, his worst fears realized. For the past four years of being with Zayn, Harry has constantly battled with thoughts of him ruining Zayn's life. Every night as he stares at the blossoming bruises on Zayn's arms and the calluses on his once soft hands, he couldn't help but blame himself for letting Zayn choose him and leave all of his riches behind. Harry feels like he has pulled Zayn down with him and now the two of them are struggling to survive every day.

Trisha smirks to herself, seeing Harry's internal battle. She knows that soon enough, he will crumble. "I'm a mother, Harry Styles. I want what is best for my only son. I'm sure your own mother is the same."

Maybe she did, Harry thinks. But it's easier to say she didn't because Harry has been abandoned in front of a random house when he was only about a week old. It would have been alright had the family, which took him in treated him like a human being and not a family pet. Alas, Harry's luck is non-existent. The one time that he feels something is right in his life, which is meeting Zayn and being loved by him, it doesn't last for long.

"I'm glad you're finally getting my point," Trisha grins, not expecting Harry to give up this easily. She throws something at the young man. "Now that Zayn's back with me, I don't want you getting anywhere near him or I will not hesitate to have you arrested."

Harry gasps as his fingers close over Zayn's ring. He's crying again when he notices the dried blood covering the piece of jewelry. With pain-filled eyes, Harry pleads with Trisha. "What if one day Zayn remembers me? You can't just push me aside and believe Zayn will never recover his memories."

"I can and I will completely erase you from Zayn's memories," Trisha says, getting angry all over again. "The doctors told me that with cases of amnesia like this, the memories can either come back in a matter of months or years and they might not even come back at all. No matter. If Zayn does get his memories back, it'll be too late for you. By then, Gigi and Zayn are married and are probably expecting a child. I will do everything in my power to keep Zayn away from you. He deserves someone better than you."

"How can you do this to your own son?" Harry sobs, his whole body shaking. "You're not what you say you are! You do not want what's best for Zayn but what's in your family's best interest! You're heartless!"

Trisha's hand connects with Harry's face with a force so intense, Harry's head snaps to the side violently, leaving a bright red handprint on the skin of the young lad's cheek.

"I do not appreciate you trying to tell me how to raise my son. I repeat, stay away from Zayn or I'll make sure your life is hell, you understand?"

And because Harry is used to people walking all over him and doing nothing about it, he nods. "I understand."

"Good," Trisha responds. She wipes her hand on her handkerchief and exits the desserted room without a word, leaving Harry alone to shed silent tears. When the young man is certain that he's all out of tears to cry, he wobbles up. He slips the bloody ring on his ring finger, right next to his very own engagement band, and quietly gets out of the hospital room.

Instead of leaving, Harry makes the journey to Zayn's room. He presses his ear to the door to listen, hoping that Zayn's mum and Gigi are gone for the day. Once he is sure of it, Harry enters the room with light footsteps. The corner of his lips quirk up in the tiniest of smiles when he sees Zayn's sleeping figure under the blankets.

"Hi, Zayn," Harry whispers softly, thankful that Zayn is such a heavy sleeper. "I'm going to have to let you g-go, alright?"

Harry uses the tip of his pointer finger to trace Zayn's peaceful face. "It's not that I don't love you anymore," he sniffs, tears leaking out of his eyes. "Because, I do. God, I love you so much that I'm setting you free. Your mum is right, I only ruined your life. I made you do hard work and watch as the number of calluses in your hands increased each day. I've dragged you down with me, to my personal hell and I don't like it. You're the sky, Zayn. You're untouchable and breathtaking in every aspect, while I'm the earth, dirt under everyone's feet. We aren't meant to be."

Harry pauses to wipe his tears away with trembling hands. He brushes some of the stray hairs that got into Zayn's face, tenderly caressing the sleeping lad's cheeks. Harry winces at every scratch that he touches, wanting to kiss them away from Zayn's skin.

"Maybe someday you'll remember me and you'll smile, a bittersweet feeling in your chest for the memories that we've shared."

Harry stands up then, gazing at Zayn with so much affection. He tries to memorize the slope of Zayn's nose, the curve of his lips and the gentle flutter of his eyelashes, for this'll be the last time that he'll be able to do so.

"I wish you all the best, all the happiness in the world because you deserve it, Zayn," he whispers to sleeping eyes and closed ears. "I love you, forever and always."

On his way home, Harry places a hand on his tummy, caressing the still flat surface with gentle circles. He smiles despite the steady ache in his chest.

"I guess it's just you, eclair and me against the world now, bub," he laughs softly. "I'm not sure how I'll do it, but I'm going to give you everything you need. You are going to be so loved as you grow up, you'll see."

Harry swears it on his life, his child will not want anything. He'll work hard to provide for his child while making sure that his child knows how much Harry loves him/her. Looking at it now, Harry thinks this is one right thing that life has given him and he's going to cherish it.

"Maybe someday your other dad will remember me and get to know you."


	2. 1 - And so it begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into Harry's life with the family who took him in.

**5 years ago**

"Harry, you ungrateful imbecile, where in the bloody hell did you put my favorite pair of heels?" A scowling woman in her forties screeches out of the open window, kicking other pairs of dancing shoes out of her way. In a matter of minutes, she hears hurried footsteps and then a disheveled young man, of no less than 18 years of age, come bounding in her walk-in closet.

"Ma'am," he pants, one hand over his chest as he fights to catch his breath. He has been in the garage prior to her call, washing her massive, black Ford Expedition and is, frankly, quite exhausted. "I always put those shoes in the place that you told me to."

"Well, they're not here."

Harry resists the urge to roll his eyes, for he isn't in any mood to be starved or scratched, and merely moves to pick up his adopted mother's aforementioned favorite shoes, which is a pair of strappy, deep burgundy stilettos. As per usual, he knows that she has failed to fully exercise her sense of sight in locating them. He hands them over and watches as she looks put off, as if she wants them to be lost so she can punish Harry for it.

"You obviously had them placed elsewhere or I would've seen them the first time," she says, flippant, and flaps a hand in the air to dismiss him. "You're such a stupid boy. You can't do things right. Get out of my sight and continue washing the car. I expect it to be spotless when I get down."

With a nod, Harry makes a hasty retreat, hurrying down the stairs and to the garage, where he, unfortunately, left the water hose on and a large puddle of liquid is now covering the ground. Horrified, he turns it off quickly, thankful that not a member of his adopted family saw his blunder or it would have been the fourth time this week that he'll sleep on the toolshed. He continues cleaning the car, working double time. He hopes that he will be able to finish before his so-called _mother_ gets down.

Being quite the unlucky person that he is, Harry's hopes are crushed when only five minutes later with the remaining task of vacuuming the seats of the car, Lilian Tilley, with her brown hair immaculately done and her slender body clad in one of her expensive ballroom dancing attires, smirks at him from the doorway of the garage. She grins, this wickedly delighted stretch of the lips, and crosses her arms over her chest, a designer handbag dangling from her hand. Beside her, Mr. Duggan, the family chauffeur, gives Harry a puzzled look, obviously unaware that the young boy is in a lot of trouble.

"You know the drill, ungrateful boy," Lilian says, mocking. "No meals for you today and toolshed at night. I've given you one task and alot of time, but you insist upon lazing around and not finishing on time. What's the point of me sending you to school if you're still this stupid? After all this time? You never learn."

Harry hangs his head in sorrow and embarrassment. He wants to talk back, say she's not the one responsible for his education because Harry is supporting himself all on his own, and stand up for his own rights, but no, Harry couldn't. Despite their ill-treatment, Harry still feels grateful to them for taking him in when he was a baby. He knows that he owes them for that alone. So, sucking it up, Harry takes all the insults quietly, although he can already feel his stomach protesting with the thought of not eating anything the whole day.

"I understand, ma'am. It won't h-happen again."

Lilian clicks her tongue, unimpressed. "I highly doubt it, boy. Now, step aside and let me go to my ballroom lessons. You're making me late."

Like earlier, Harry scrambles to get away from his adopted mother's cruelty and locks himself in his tiny room. He gasps as he feels hot tears trailing down his cheeks. In the confines of his room, he's no longer brave. He is just so tired of his life with the Tilley's and wishes he could escape it completely. He knows he has a bit of money saved up, all from his dishwasher job at the breakfast diner, to last a couple of months in a flat, but he needs a bit more for food and other expenses. Plus, he still needs to finish his last two months of sixth form above anything else. Finishing his secondary education with excellent grades is his top priority because he knows it'll be his one-way ticket to entering university. Thus, his plan to leave this awful place will not be for said period of time.

Without anything else to do, Harry picks up his unfinished book, a tattered copy of _Memoirs of a Geisha_ , which he managed to snag from the rubbish that his adopted sister, Katerina, ordered for him to throw away. He resumes his reading to pass the time until he has to go to the toolshed to sleep.

Hours later, after a glass of water and a meal out of his small stash of food, which consists of packs of crackers, a small bottle of strawberry jelly and a loaf of bread, Harry finds himself arranging a pillow and some blankets inside the cramped space of the family's toolshed. Fortunately, the only tools inside this little shed are a pair of rusty garden shears and a rake. Harry, to be safe while he sleeps, ties both the tools together and props them in the corner, a few inches from where his feet are. He knows he doesn't move at all when in slumber, but it is better to be sure.

Once he is done fixing his sleeping space, Harry lays down, curled up on top of a blanket. He closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, relieved to be reaching a place where he is safe, warm and his dreams are a reality.


	3. 2 - It continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's school life and meeting his first friend.

The weeks move slow, much to Harry's chagrin. He follows the same boring routine of work, school and sleep littered with a few insults, hunger and pain here and there. It's frustrating and tiresome but Harry's pulling through with the knowledge that all of this will be over soon.

At the moment, the young lad is finishing up his shift at the diner. He is currently rinsing the last plate and then stacks it up on top of a clean pile. Satisfied with his work, Harry wipes his hands dry on a towel, goes to the employee lounge to hang his apron up and then grabs his school bag from his locker. He says a quick goodbye to his co-workers and then his employer before he takes the short trip to his school.

Upon entering the gates, Harry immediately stiffens, his back straight and hands trembling. He hopes for a clean escape from cold blue eyes and a taunting smile. Alas, fate enjoys his misery.

"Well, if it isn't my dear sweet brother, Harry," the brunette sneers, turning all the way to face Harry with a humorless chuckle. His name is Jakob Tilley, Harry's adopted brother, with the same age, who mercilessly picks on him at home and at school. Beside Jakob are his friends from the football team, the jocks. They all join in the mocking laughter. "We were waiting for you! What took you so long, huh?"

"Work," Harry murmurs. He tries to push past the athletic bodies blocking his entrance to the school but, ultimately, end up on his arse on the ground. He is surrounded by more laughter and then Jakob's face in fromt of him.

"You better give me money or I'll be forced to pound your face in."

"I," Harry pauses and clears his throat. The words to defend himself are sitting on the tip of his tongue but he cannot seem to find the courage to say them. "I haven't received my pay."

Jakob frowns and violently shoves Harry. The young lad falls and hits his head against the cement, hard enough that he sees stars and feels nauseous. He expects more hits to come, however, an unfamiliar voice interrupts the jocks' fun.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

One of Jakob's friends pull at his arm. "C'mon, Jake. Nerd's not worth the trouble with coach. Let's go!"

"This is not over yet, _bro_ ," Jakob hisses.

Harry hears their footsteps retreat towards the other direction. Despite the slight reprieve, Harry knows he'll be getting it at home later. With a sigh, he sits up and rubs the painful growing bump on the back of his head.

Someone kneels beside him and places a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you alright?"

Harry turns his head to the side and sees sparkling blue eyes, so unlike Jakob's, short blond hair and colorful rubber on metal braces. He knows this lad, notices him in the hallways often but he hasn't talked to him, ever.

"I'm fine."

The blond nods and straightens up. He offers a hand out to Harry, which the boy accepts to pull himself up.

"Thanks."

"No problem, mate. I'm Niall Horan, by the way."

"Harry Styles."

Despite being a part of the Tilley family for all 18 years of his life, not once has Harry used or been permitted to use their last name. Lilian always tells him to use his own surname in order to not taint or soil the Tilley's reputation with his idiocy. To Harry, it's more than alright because why would he classify himself as a member of the Tilley family when all they have ever done to him is treat him like dirt underneath their expensive shoes?

"I know you," Niall says once they've reached their respective lockers, which to Harry's surprise are only adjacent to each other. "You're in my French class both last year and this year."

"I...am?" Harry asks, confused. He closes his eyes and slouches, getting ready for the anger that he knows the other lad will feel after his next words. "I didn't know. I haven't seen you?"

Laughter. Harry is shocked to hear laughter instead of angry insults hurtled his way in response. He turns to Niall and sees blue eyes regarding him with amusement. "That's because you're always buried in books, mate. Whenever I see you, you're either reading or studying. I wanted to introduce myself but I also didn't want to bother you."

A strange feeling of warmth envelops Harry's entire being. He hasn't been able to meet someone who is so considerate of his feelings before. It's new.

"I'm glad I got to you on time, by the way," Niall continues despite Harry's silence. He pulls a few books out of his locker and closes it. "I've always hated how Jakob treats you. He's a bloody wanker."

Harry cracks a small smile, sort of weak for he knows his facial muscles have no idea how to properly do one because when you're Harry Styles, there isn't a single reason in your life to smile and feel happy, even existing is a task. "Thanks," he murmurs. "Niall."

It doesn't matter, Harry realizes in the next second, for Niall Horan's wide, pleased grin is enough for the two of them. "You're welcome, Harry!"

When his own papers and books are secured, Harry locks his locker and turns to face Niall. "What's your next class?"

"Sociology," Niall whines. "Tell me you've got that as well? Wait. Don't answer that because I know you don't."

Harry chuckles quietly, surprising himself. "I've got photography."

If possible, Niall's grin turns wider at Harry's laughter. The blond looks quite accomplished. "Lucky!"

"A bit."

Seeing as their rooms are on the same building and floor, Niall and Harry decide to walk together towards their classes. On the way, Harry realizes how much Niall's company has lifted the weight pressing down on his shoulders. Harry has a proper friend now and not just someone who needs him for their homework or for answers in exams.

"I'll see you at lunch?" Niall asks Harry, big, blue eyes hopeful.

"I don't really eat lunch," Harry tells him and feels bad when Niall's face falls in disappointment. "But, I guess I'll do today."

Niall jumps up, pumping his fist in the air. "Wicked!" he cheers. "See you later, Harrygator!"

Harry bursts out laughing, this loud, hearty laugh that Niall couldn't help but join. The two new friends laugh together near the doorway to Niall's Sociology classroom, a good start to their friendship.


	4. 3 - A little ray of sunshine

After their fateful meeting a week ago, Harry and Niall are inseparable. Harry is visibly happier these days, his smiles and laughter come easier, especially around the blond lad. He also feels lighter, despite a few nights that he has no choice but to spend sleeping in the toolshed, hungry and aching, knowing that one person cares for him and genuinely likes him.

"I haven't even arrived and you're smiling already? I feel betrayed."

"Hey, Nialler."

Harry waves at Niall and pushes himself off of the ground. The two of them are standing infront of the diner, where Harry works at, the younger of the two having just finished his shift and Niall is here to pick him up so they can go to the studio. It is a rather gloomy Saturday and also the day their graduation pictures are scheduled to be taken.

"Any thoughts on what you'll be writing for your senior quote?" Niall asks as they walk side by side towards the place where the photoshoot is going to take place. Harry can't help but notice how content Niall looks when he's around Harry, as though as he doesn't expect anything from the younger man other than his company.

"Do I really have to have something written for the yearbook?" Harry frowns, scratching his arm.

Niall nods. "Well yeah."

"Then, I don't know." Harry shrugs. He thinks that anything he writes about himself will mean nothing to the people that'll be reading them, so why bother?

"There has to be something," Niall insists. He pauses by the pavement, staring at the side of Harry's face with serious eyes. "Personally, I'd like to use some type of deep shit quote. Like, time is gold or summat."

Harry laughs. "Just use that one. It's great."

As usual, Niall looks pleased to have made Harry laugh. "You can use beauty is in the eye of the beholder for your senior quote," he suggests with a cheeky smirk.

Harry shoves Niall lightly, still letting out a few chuckles. "That's lame."

"Keep the thought for when you're all out of ideas to put as your senior quote."

"Fine."

Companionable silence descend upon the two young lads as they complete the journey to the photography studio. Harry looks around the colorful establishments here in downtown Manchester, awed as it is his - honest to god - first time strolling here.

A few minutes later, Harry and Niall enter a spacious studio. They both register at the front desk, signing beside their names on the attendance sheet. They then sit down on the couch by the waiting area, seeing a few of their classmates awaiting their turns. Harry notices that the female students are wearing light make-up with varying hairstyles while the male students are goofing around with their freshly pressed slacks and long-sleeved polo shirts. He looks down at his thin, lilac button down and the pair of slacks that Jakob has handed down to him, wondering if it'll do.

"You look way better than all of the guys here, H. Myself included," Niall whispers with a wink. Harry wonders how Niall can read him so well despite having been his friend for only a week. "No need to worry, yeah?"

Harry nods, eventhough he has a hard time accepting Niall's words. He tries, though, because he knows Niall does not lie. Harry is reminded by it when he remembers all the times where Niall tells him that the thing he despises the most is lying and that he tries hard to stay honest all the time.

As the photoshoot is done alphabetically, Niall is called soon enough, the receptionist pronouncing his name wrong. Niall is undeterred and simply snickers. He then leaves Harry with a pat to the top of his head.

To pass the time, Harry decides to stare outside the massive glass windows. He watches as busy people hurry through the pavement, each of them looking more frantic than the other, eyebrows furrowed as their sights are glued to their mobile phones. Harry supposes they're about to be late to work and is only one more tardy away from suspension or something. Then, slowly, his green eyes move to watch the other side of the road. Upon focusing, he sees a young couple crossing the street, talking. The female is taller than the guy with long, pin-straight blonde hair and fair skin while the guy has deep black short locks and golden skin. They look good together, dressed in immaculate clothing that are no doubt expensive. As they near the photography studio, Harry sees the color of their eyes, melted gold and light blue.

Much to Harry's amusement, they both stop right in front of him, now obviously arguing. The lad looks pissed off, nostrils flared and neck veins prominent as he talks. On the other hand, the female is gesturing wildly, her purse flying with her movements. No one is paying them any mind. The argument seems to end as quickly as it has started and, of course, the bird stomps away after. The dark-haired bloke stays rooted on his spot, rubbing a hand over his face. Harry freezes when molten gold irises stares into his own green eyes.

It's like time stood still as Harry and the stranger stare at each other. There is white noise all around Harry and all he can focus on is the moment at hand, his heart pounding. He wonders for a second if the other lad feels it too, that deep connection, instant but real.

"Girls," the bloke mouths to him with a forced grin, breaking their little moment. He waves with two fingers and then he is off to, undoubtedly, calm his girlfriend down.

Once he is gone, only then is Harry able to breathe a little better. He feels warmth in his cheeks and knows he is blushing. Lucky for him, Niall decides to show up then, saving him from further reading into the moment that has passed.

"Haz, I'm telling you, we'll look sick on the yearbook because we're matching!"

He knows better than to fantasize about a good looking lad finding him attractive; It'll never happen.


	5. 4 - One step closer to freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn and Harry finally meet.

"Thank you so much for this, Mr. and Mrs. Horan," Harry says for the nth time as him and the Horan family sit around a table inside Rudy's Pizza, a pizzeria in Ancoat, waiting for their orders.

Maura, Niall's mother, smiles kindly at the shy young lad sitting beside her son. "Harry, sweetheart," she responds gently. "It's no trouble at all. We want you here to celebrate both of your graduation from sixth form."

Bobby, Maura's husband and Niall's father, nods in agreement. He is seated by the head of the table with his firstborn son, Greg, on his left. "I agree. Besides, you've told us that you won't be celebrating your graduation and that just won't do!"

Harry ducks his head shyly, a smile making a permanent home on his face. This is all so foreign to him, the warm welcome and affection, that he doesn't know how to handle it. So far, his only response is to take everything with open arms and embrace them, letting them fill his heart, which has been thirsty for the love of a family for a very long time.

"Watch as Hazza thanks us again in a few minutes," Niall snickers, looking properly adorable with his toga and graduate cap still on. He claps Harry on the back, grinning.

"I won't," Harry protests with red cheeks. He fiddles with the tassel of his own graduate cap, which is on top of his lap.

Luckily, the food arrives. It saves Harry from more of Niall's jolly teases. The Horan family and Harry dig into the delicious neapolitan pizza, making small talk. When asked about his plans now that he's graduated, Harry tells Niall's parents that he plans on having a year to save up before he continues his way to university to take up a degree in business. Maura and Bobby compliment him and tell him that if he needs any help, he shouldn't hesitate to come to them. Harry flounders at that, overwhelmed by their kindness, and barely manages to nod. Soon, conversations end as they all enjoy the food. Then, Niall's parents pay for the meal and exit the restaurant. The Horans insist on dropping Harry off to his home and he agrees because, honestly, he's going to get lost if he attempts to go home on his own. The ride home is spent with more lively conversation and Harry wonders if this is how it is when you have a family, somewhere that you belong to. He likes it and wants to have it for himself.

"Thanks for driving me home," Harry says once he's in front of the Tilley's massive steel gates. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, lad," Bobby replies, smiling at Harry. "See you around?"

"Yeah."

Maura adds, "Don't be a stranger, alright? Call us if you need anything."

"I will."

"Bye, Haz!" Niall waves madly, still full of energy despite it being 9 in the evening.

Harry returns the wave and soon the family is off towards their own home. Harry watches them go until they disappear down the road before making his way inside the house. Upon entering, Harry notices that the Tilley's residence is alive with music, lights and chatter. He looks at the massive glass windows of the living room and sees guests milling about, carrying red cups and paper plates filled with food. He guesses that this is Jakob's graduation party. Harry makes a detour and uses the back door to enter the house because he knows Lilian would have his head served on a platter if he dares to show himself to their guests.

Quietly, Harry tiptoes past the kitchen and to the stairs. He knows that there won't be any person on this side of the house because if there is one thing that Lilian despises, it is home cooked meals on parties. Ever since Harry can remember, Lilian has hired the same catering services for all of her children's birthday, except Harry's, and they set their food and drinks table inside the extravagant dining area of the house. And so, with confidence that no one will see him, Harry climbs the stairs to his room in the attic, still dressed in his toga. However, his plan to escape unnoticed goes down the toilet when he reaches the second floor of the house.

At first, Harry sees Katerina and her short, dyed ombre hair. Next, he notices that she's not alone, her body is pressed against someone else's. A guy, made obvious by the dark short hair and prominent adam's apple, but instead of the bloke putting the moves on her, it looks like she's the one that's doing it.

"Why aren't you attracted to me?" Katerina says, still oblivious to Harry's presence. She plays with the guy's hair and clicks her tongue when he swats her hand away.

The lad groans loudly, annoyed, and breaks free from her hold. "I told you, I already have a girlfriend."

"That's not an issue to me."

"It is to me," the guy sighs. Harry symphatizes with him for he knows how stubborn Katerina gets when she sets her sight on something. "Besides, I only met you today. Our parents are working on a deal to be business partners, our relationship is wholly on a professional level."

Katerina sighs heavily but she isn't relenting. "No one will know. It'll be quick."

Harry couldn't help it, really. He snorts and then covers his mouth with his hand, muffling his chuckles. If anyone asks him why he has become so stupid as to laugh at his adopted sister, risking his life, he'll blame it on being around Niall, someone who is so easy to amuse.

As expected, Katerina is enraged, glaring at Harry. "What are you laughing at, orphan?"

Harry winces, his amusement dying as quickly as it came. "I'm sorry," he apologizes softly. He hangs his head and misses the bloke's eyes on him.

"You better be," Katerina scoffs. Annoyed at being interrupted of her fun, she tears herself away from the stranger and stomps away. She shoves Harry to the side as she descends the stairs, the young man almost tumbling down after her. Luckily, Harry manages to cling to the wall.

Harry thanks all of his lucky stars and sighs in relief. His head snaps up when an unfamiliar voice addresses him.

"I owe you one, mate."

"Pardon?"

The guy grins and now that Harry has his eyes focused on him, realization dawns on him. It is the same bloke that caught Harry's eyes back at the photography studio. Well, would you look at that. Not alot of people get an opportunity like this, Harry thinks.

Up close, Harry sees how beautiful this lad truly is, so much that Harry's hands grow clammy with sweat, his throat closing up on him. He drinks his face in, memorizing the slopes and planes of his handsome face. Sadly, though, the guy doesn't seem to remember Harry.

"She's been bugging me all night and, honestly, if it wasn't for you, I would have knocked her out and ran the hell away from here."

Harry laughs, a loud squawk of a laugh and the guy joins him.

"Thanks for having such a good timing, bro. I'm Zayn Malik."

Harry's heart flutters. Now, he's got a name to match the lovely face starring in his dreams.

"My name's Harry Styles."


	6. 5 - Feels an awful lot like Cinderella

Harry pulls the rope to close the door to his attic room, tying it around a metal knob to secure it. Once done, he joins his unexpected guest, who is sitting by the bed, and plops on the floor slowly, his nerves on high alert.

"Your room is sick, mate," Zayn compliments sincerely, looking around the small area with eager brown eyes.

Harry's eyes sweep around the room, taking in his dusty bookshelf full of his favorite books and little trinkets that he has collected over the years. He catches sight of the newest addition to his meaningful collection, which is a thumb-sized troll doll keychain with crazy orange hair and big eyes. The troll doll is from Niall and according to the irish blond, it is his lucky keychain.

"When I was younger, I used to lose our house keys all the bloody time." Harry remembers Niall recounting the story, gaze distant and fond. "My mum bought this keychain. She thought if I had a keychain as big as this troll doll, I'd have a hard time losing the keys. Personally, I didn't believe her at first, but here I am now, years later, holding the same set of house keys with the same troll doll keychain. Mad, innit?"

Harry remembers protesting when Niall has given him the tiny doll, but accepted it, anyway. It is his most prized possession now.

"Harry?"

Zayn's voice snaps Harry out of his thoughts. He locks eyes with Zayn for a second too long and becomes flustered. He ducks his head and says, "Umm, yeah?"

"You left me for a moment there," Zayn murmurs softly. "No surprise, though. I know how boring I can get."

"What?" Harry squeaks, shaking his head fervently. "No, no, no, no! I was just, uh, remembering some...things."

"Alright." Zayn nods. "Well, umm, can I ask you a question? Like, something personal?"

Harry shrugs, trying his best not to freak out and panic because Zayn looks very serious for some reason.

"You don't look a thing like Mrs. Tilley or her husband. You certainly don't have Katerina and Jakob's blue eyes. I was wondering if, umm, are you adopted?"

Harry releases the breath that he is holding, relieved. He can definitely talk about this, him being adopted has never been a touchy issue to him. "I am."

"How long?"

"All my life," Harry replies. "Ma'am Lilian told me they found me in front of their gates when I was a week old. I've lived here all my life."

"I see." Zayn looks like he wanted to pull Harry into a hug but doesn't know if he's allowed to. "I'm sorry for asking."

"It's alright."

Unbeknownst to Harry, who has his head tilted up, watching the starry night sky through the circular window on his ceiling, Zayn's curious eyes trace his face, fascinated. "I feel like I've seen you somewhere," he confesses quietly.

Harry tenses. "R-really?"

"Yes," Zayn says without hesitation. "Your eyes...they look at me like I'm familiar."

"Erm." Mentally, Harry is debating if he should tell Zayn that they have had a short staring contest on Manchester a few weeks back.

Zayn exhales loudly and lays down on the bed, the back of his head cushioned on top of his arms. "Never mind."

Harry, relieved beyond words, nods. He takes his toga off and folds it neatly, stacking the graduate cap on top of it.

A comfortable silence settles over them but Zayn breaks it a couple of minutes later, asks, "Katerina sure is persistent, yeah?"

"She is."

"I excused myself to go to the loo and when I finished, she was right there, standing infront of the bathroom door. Scared the shit out of me, man. Bloody hell."

Harry laughs.

"Girls," Zayn mutters.

The amused expression on Harry's face fades and he stiffens in surprise, recalling Zayn's exact word when he first saw him and following it is the knowledge of Zayn being in a relationship. Harry mentally shrugs; it doesn't really matter because it's not like Harry's tiny crush on Zayn will be returned. So, he gathers a bit of courage instead and initiates a conversation.

"How did you meet, uh, Ma'am Lilian?"

Zayn sits up and holds Harry's gaze. For some reason, the two of them are asking and answering questions which they will normally would not divulge to someone they've just met. It is almost like they've been friends for years and the level of comfortability they feel for each other is enough to warrant details of their personal lives. It's insane if they think about it.

"For years, my mum and dad have been trying to convince her to sell one of her properties to us. She never agreed, until now. They've been discussing the details of the transaction for weeks and, apparently, they've signed the contract. The deal's closed and to celebrate it, Mrs. Tilley invited us over."

"Do you know the specific details of the deal?" Whoa, Harry thinks. Where is he getting all of these courage to ask such questions?

The response is a shake of Zayn's head. "No idea at all. Funny, though, because I should know these things considering the fact that I'm next in line to run the business, but meh."

"You aren't interested in business?"

"Not really," Zayn admits, ashamed. He fiddles with a bracelet on his wrist. "I've always wanted to be a singer. Or a songwriter. But, we can't, like, have everything, right?"

Harry timidly reaches out to pat Zayn's knee in comfort. "Maybe you'll be the first CEO singer-songwriter."

The curly-haired lad counts it as a win when Zayn chuckles. "I like the sound of that."

Their moment is broken when Zayn's phone starts ringing. He fishes it out of his pocket, looks at the caller ID and sighs before answering. "Hey, Gigi."

Harry scoots to the side when Zayn stands up, watching the handsome man's expression get pinched throughout the hushed conversation.

"Babe, mum and I are invited to the Tilley's, remember? What? The fuck, Gigi...Why can't you trust me? Whatever...I'm going home. It's late. Bye."

Harry wants to reach out and chase the tension away from Zayn's shoulders, but stays rooted on his spot by the floor. He looks at his wall clock and sees the hour hand stretching close to midnight.

"Thanks again for earlier, Harry," Zayn says, his stiff back to Harry. He unties the rope to open the door to Harry's room, gently letting the attached stairs slide down. Carefully, Zayn lowers himself on the hole, scaling down the stairs, one foot at a time. Just before he disappears completely, only his head visible to Harry, he smiles slightly and waves. "It was nice meeting you, Harry." Then, he is gone. His soft footsteps fading away quickly.

Like earlier, Harry pulls the rope up to close his door and ties it on the metal knob, securing it. He gets changed to more comfortable clothing and lays on his bed. He snuggles against the bedsheets with a deep breath, chasing Zayn's faint scent on the linen, his heart aching for more.


	7. 6 - When they throw you away

Today, Harry has decided to start job and flat hunting. After learning about the deal with the Maliks that Lilian has agreed to, he knows that it is time for him to go out on his own. There's a big chance that the property that Zayn is talking about is this very house with which Harry is currently living in and he does not want to go homeless if it is. In preparation for his move, Harry clears out his room. He packs his meager possessions, clothes, a towel and his blankets, into his old backpack. His trinket collection and books are then placed on a duffle bag, along with his toiletries. He puts both of the bags on top of his now bare bed and gets ready to head out.

He takes a quick shower, making sure to thoroughly wash his long hair and body and brush his teeth so that they are all squeaky clean to make a good impression on his future employers. Next, he changes into his only pair of slacks and a peach-colored button down. He tucks his top into his pants and wears a belt to secure it. He then lets his hair air dry as he shoves his used clothing inside a laundry bag and then inside his backpack. Afterwards, he runs a comb through his hair to fix it. Once done, Harry checks himself in the vintage full body mirror that he found here in the attic, making sure that he looks his best. He smiles at himself into the reflective surface, confident enough to land a decent job.

Downstairs, Harry has successfully avoided his adopted family members because he knows that they are still asleep, after all it is only 6:30 in the morning. He tiptoes past the bedrooms and empty living room in his journey to the front door. Before going out, Harry shoves his feet into his trusty oxfords. Then, as silently as he can, he exits the quiet house.

The streets are deserted. Harry admires the beauty and silence of the early morning. He decides to make his way to the café that he frequents for a quick breakfast. He reaches the quaint shop, _Café Diem_ , after a few more minutes and enters it, noticing that he's the first customer of the day. He takes a deep breath of the lively scent of coffee and smiles.

"Good morning," the barista in charge greets.

Harry proceeds to the counter. "Hi, good morning."

"What can I get for you today?"

"A cup of capuccino and, erm, one of these healthy morning muffins, please."

"That'll be £5.43, Sir."

Harry counts his money and hands over a tenner. He is then given his change, which he places inside his wallet after. He watches as the barista expertly makes his capuccino, place his muffin on a plate and then assembling everything on a tray. The barista rings the bell, despite Harry being in front of the pick-up counter, and grins.

"Capuccino and a healthy morning muffin! Enjoy."

Harry returns the smile, thanks the cheery young man and takes his food to a table near the windows. He puts his tray down and gets a free newspaper from the magazine rack. He takes a sip of his coffee and sighs in content. He then takes a bite out of his muffin and pulls out the pen that he has shoved in his pocket. Harry flips through the newspaper, looking for the classified ads section. Perhaps it is because of how old school it is compared to searching for jobs online, but Harry couldn't help notice that the classifieds section is very small now, only spanning a page and a half of the paper. Nonetheless, Harry feels confident that he'll find a job through it.

Time passes by quickly and before Harry knows it, he has already gone through several jobs that he fits well within the requirements, his coffee and muffin are finished and the café is now buzzing with customers. Not wanting to occupy space that new customers can use, Harry gets up and leaves, tucking the newspaper under his arm.

The first job on Harry's list is a family-owned bakery, _The Bread Corner_. He is a tad hesitant to apply here because he lacks any knowledge of baking, but he tries anyway. To his utter surprise, he gets hired. According to Alexander, the owner, Harry's lack of knowledge in baking does not matter because he will be teaching him how to bake and that he can start next week, Monday. After promising to work hard, Harry leaves the store with a little spring to his step.

Sadly, the next two jobs on Harry's list end up not accepting him. The bookstore/coffee shop/florist shop one has just completed their roster of employees and the teacher's assistant job by the local pre-school is in need of a female applicant because the male position is already filled out.

Harry isn't discouraged.

At 4 in the afternoon, Harry is seen entering a beer garden for the last job vacancy on his list. Immediately, he is approached by the owner of the business, who introduces himself as Liam Payne, a young business tycoon. He explains to Harry that all he needs is a server, who can move fast and efficiently, especially on nights that the place is packed. Harry shyly tells him that he has a bit of experience on the industry because he has worked on a breakfast diner before. He doesn't think it'll be helping his chances of being accepted, but is proven wrong when Liam looks impressed by his admission and hires him right off the bat.

Grateful, Harry shakes the lad's hand enthusiastically when they got around to signing the contract. Liam tells Harry that he starts on Saturday night, which is two days from now, today being a Wednesday.

"Oh and before I forget," Liam adds as they stand infront of the beer garden's doors, ready to part ways. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone interested in renting a flat, do you? I've been looking for someone to rent the last door on my complex, but so far, I haven't had much luck."

Harry thinks this might be the luckiest day of his young life, the day that everything starts to look up for him. He stares at Liam with surprise, green eyes wide. "Mr. Payne, I am looking for a flat."

Liam beams, all crinkly-eyed and happy. "This is great, then," he says. "Want to check the place out? I'll give it to you for a friendly price."

Harry nods and follows Liam to where his apartment complex is. Lucky for Harry, the building is at a walking distance with the beer garden and he doesn't have to spend much more money on transportation.

The apartment building is a fairly new one, freshly painted and well kept. Liam greets the security personnel as they pass by him and the middle-aged man returns it happily. They climb up the stairs to the second floor. Liam then opens room 201.

"Here we are, Harry."

Harry steps inside and promptly falls in love. Although a bit tiny, Harry thinks this flat is perfect for him. The space feels comfortable enough to live in and, because there aren't any tall buildings infront of the complex, the view is rather lovely. Harry checks the bedroom, the small kitchen-slash-dining room, the living room and the bathroom, finding them more than alright for him. After his short tour around the flat, Harry wanders back to Liam, smiling.

"I'll take it," he gushes. "It's perfect."

Liam pats him on the shoulder. "Glad to hear it, mate."

"When can I move in?"

"As soon as possible," Liam replies. "We can settle the payment on Saturday, alright?"

Harry looks conflicted. "Erm, I can, uh, pay today?"

Liam laughs. "Nonsense," he says as they head out. He locks the door and they descend the stairs. "You can move tomorrow and pay me on Saturday."

"If you're sure?"

"Positive."

As soon as they are infront of Liam's apartment building, they shake hands again.

"Thanks again, Mr. Payne," Harry repeats for the nth time. "For the job and the flat."

"Call me Liam and it's no trouble at all, Harry."

"Alright, umm, Liam."

"That's better," Liam grins. He waves at Harry one last time and proceeds to the direction of his beer garden.

Harry makes his way home. He feels really good today. He has accomplished alot and he hopes that this is merely the beginning of his life getting better. He can't wait to tell Niall about everything. He is sure that his friend will be happy for him.

Sadly, Harry has spoken too soon because when he reaches the gates of the Tilley's residence, he sees both of his packed bags and pillow thrown haphazardly to the ground near the rubbish bins. Alarmed, Harry sprints to where his belongings are and picks them up.

"No," he whispers, fearing the worst. He looks up and plastered against the gates is a massive sign that says _sold_. Harry feels his knees go weak and buckle, sending him to the ground with quivering lips. He tries to read the fine print of the paper but ends up staring at it with blurred vision as tears well in his eyes and drip down his cheeks.


	8. 7 - Misery loves you

When he has calmed down enough, Harry dries his tears and squares his shoulders. He decides, as he shrugs his backpack and duffle bag on, that tonight is the last time he's going to shed tears over his misfortune of having the Tilley family as his guardians. From now on, Harry is free from their clutches and he'll make sure that the life he has only dreamt of will be a reality.

After a quick, almost tasteless, dinner of cheeseburger and fries at McDonald's, Harry makes himself comfortable on the steps leading to Liam's apartment building. He glances at his watch as he sits down on the cold cement, reading 8:45 in the evening. Harry counts in his head the hours that he'll be waiting for Liam to arrive - almost 13 hours. He shudders, horrified.

Harry thinks of calling Niall for help but remembers his stunning lack of mobile phone and trashes that idea with a frustrated exhale. He slouches further on his frigidly cold seat, a frustrated frown settling over his features. He resigns to braving the harsh weather and closes his eyes to try and get some sleep when an unfamiliar voice calls out to him.

"Mate, what in the bloody hell are you doing out in this cold?"

Harry turns to face the voice and sees a vaguely familiar face. He struggles to place a name to the bloke's features. "Erm."

"Are you waiting for someone who lives in this building?"

"I'm waiting for Liam Payne, actually," Harry admits, shivering. He stands up, dropping his backpack on the ground.

The bloke smiles kindly. "Well, I'm sure my boss wouldn't mind if I let you wait the night inside the building instead of freezing your arse off outside."

With a start, Harry realizes that the man standing infront of him is the middle-aged security guard that Liam greeted earlier. Harry sighs, relieved beyond words. It seems as though his luck is not all that non-existent.

"Would that be alright?" he questions, hesitant about taking up the offer. He doesn't want to antagonize his blooming friendship with Liam.

"Liam would prefer it if I let you in, I reckon," the guard replies. He waves Harry in. "Come now, lad."

Grateful, Harry grabs both of his bags and heads inside the warm lobby of the apartment building. The guard shows him the waiting area and tells him to get settled on the couch. Harry does what he's told, curling up on top of the soft cushions and within minutes his weary consciousness submits into slumber.

The smell of coffee and pancakes wake Harry up the next day. He opens both of his eyes and sees a cup of coffee and a paperbag on top of the coffee table infront of him. He sits up, yawns and looks around, spotting Liam with his back to Harry, his phone pressed to his ear. Harry waits for the lad to finish his call.

Turning around, Liam notices Harry is awake and grins. He says goodbye to his friend on the phone and greets the younger man. "Good morning, Harry."

"Good morning, Liam."

"How was your sleep?"

"It was good."

Liam chuckles, sliding next to Harry on the couch. He pats the cushion fondly. "I knew this sofa is a winner," he says with a laugh. Then, he gestures to the things on top of the coffee table. "I bought you brekkie."

Harry glances at the food and wants to decline but his stomach grumbles loudly in protest. "T-Thanks."

Watching Harry devour the food, Liam feels warmth in his chest for this young boy, who looks as if he has been through hell and back but has survived. "Will told me he found you on the steps of the building last night. You weren't planning on sleeping there, were you?"

By now, the pancakes are gone and Harry's coffee is halfway there as well. "I was planning to, actually."

Liam's jaw drops. "Last night was one of the coldest nights ever, mate!"

"I didn't want to trouble you," Harry shrugs. He gulps down the rest of his coffee.

Liam sighs. He stands up and takes the empty wrappings of Harry's breakfast. He throws them away before leading Harry upstairs. He unlocks the flat that Harry will occupy.

"Here," Liam says. He looks around the small space and imagines the curly-haired lad living in it. He doesn't know this boy's story, but he's glad that in this obvious time of despair for Harry, he is able to help in his own way. "No more sleeping on cold cement, alright Harry?"

Harry chuckles softly, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. He is finally starting a new chapter of his life. Here, right in this moment, he's making something out of his, previously worthless, life. He vows to work hard and build something good for himself. From this day forth, Harry Styles will not merely exist but also live and enjoy the temporary life that he's been given.

"A bed sounds much better, Liam."


	9. 8 - Crossing paths once again

It has been a year since Harry has lived in a flat of his own, earning money for himself and no one else's. He's got some good things going on with his life now and he couldn't be any prouder of himself.

First, he's been promoted as one of the head bakers at the bakery. With the position, he's only required to come in the mornings, bake breads and pastries and clock out around 11 am. Sometimes, he gets out earlier than 11 and that is when business is slow. His job at Liam's beer garden is going great as well. Liam has opened a new branch somewhere in the city and has transferred half of the senior employees there. With the flood of new employees to the branch that Harry is working in, Liam has entrusted the young lad with training them, which in turn allowed for a hefty raise of Harry's salary.

Harry's afternoons are usually empty and boring because Niall, his best friend, has moved permanently back to Ireland to take over their family's small business and Liam is always away for meetings because of his own businesses. So, the curly-haired lad decides to use his time for something more useful and finds an animal shelter to volunteer in. This particular animal shelter is more keen on taking in stray dogs, but still a few kittens and the occasional birds are accepted as well. If Harry is pressed to admit, he'll say that being a volunteer for this shelter is his favorite job and, despite not receiving any pay, Harry is still happy for he gets to cuddle pups and old dogs of all shapes and sizes.

Today, Harry clocks out of his baking duties earlier than usual. He eats his packed lunch - a tuna sandwich - on the way to _Sweaterpaws_ , the animal shelter that he volunteers in. Upon entering the premises, he smiles widely at the excited yips and barks of the dogs.

"Early today, H," Ashley, one of his fellow volunteers, greets him with a smile. In her arms is a tiny orange kitten sucking milk from a small bottle.

Harry approaches her and proceeds to scratch behind the kitten's ears. "I got out of the bakery early. The owners are having a family outing this afternoon and closed early."

"Wicked," Ashley responds. She puts the kitten down the soft cat bed and the tiny thing instantly rolls across the cushion to join her fellow kittens. "Harry, I'm glad you got here early. I've got a huge favor to ask of you."

Harry pauses on his current task of opening the huge bag of dog food and encourages Ashley to continue with a nod of his head.

"Well, uh, I've got a lunch date with this guy and he's picking me up by 11:30."

"And?" The corner of Harry's lips automatically curl up in a smile. He's happy for her and he feels a little less guilty for having turned her down a month ago.

Ashley blushes. "I was about to turn him down because I know you usually go in around 1. I didn't want to leave the dogs for an hour and a half without anyone around. But, since you're here now, I reckon I should accept his invitation, what do you think?"

"Go for it," Harry encourages her with a smile. "I don't mind starting my shift earlier."

"Oh god," Ashley squeals loudly. The dogs at the back bark in response and Harry imagines their tails wagging in excitement. "You're a lifesaver, Harry. Thanks!"

"Go and get ready, Ash."

Harry goes back to filling the food bowls for the furry residents of the shelter, making sure to measure the food accurately so as to not waste any. He hears Ashley humming to herself in the employee lounge and chuckles, genuinely pleased to know that she has moved on from her infatuation with Harry.

At around 11:30 in the morning, a dark-skinned bloke with long black hair enters the shelter, his strides a bit hesitant. Not wanting to intervene, Harry watches as Ashley greets the guest with red cheeks and a beaming grin, which the lad returns. Harry is then introduced to Jordan very quickly before the two leave for their lunch date. Harry knows that Ashley will not be back afterwards because her shift is already finished by the time their little date is over, so he busies himself with feeding the lively pups of the shelter. When they are done eating and drinking, Harry lets them out of their cages to play around, laughing rather loudly at their playful antics.

Engrossed in his current task of separating a kitten and a husky pup from their fight, Harry does not notice that 2 in the afternoon has rolled by and a very familiar bloke is now standing behind him. He only hears the familiar voice and, like what happened a year ago, Harry's world slows to a stop.

"Excuse me?"

Harry spins around, almost falling flat on his face. "Z-Zayn?"

"How did you...Harry?"

There, standing in all his glory is Zayn Malik. He is clad in a business suit, his dark hair combed back and away from his face, emphasizing his sharp features. He looks breathtaking as per usual and Harry starts to get lost in his golden eyes when a pitiful whine commands his attention away. Harry's green eyes catch sight of a small, chocolate and cream-colored dachshund in Zayn's arms.

"Hello," Harry forces himself to say, smiling slightly. He walks to the counter and asks, "How may I help you today?"

Zayn doesn't seem to register his question because he, too, is staring at Harry with something like awe in his eyes. He looks relieved, as well, like he has been hopelessly looking for Harry for a long time and when he saw him now, he couldn't be happier. Harry shares the same feelings.

"Uh, Zayn?"

"What?"

Harry chuckles and gestures to the fidgeting pup. "I asked you how I could help?"

"Right," Zayn says with an embarrassed laugh, cheeks pink. "I found him trying to get in my car and decided to bring him here."

"Alright," Harry replies with a nod. He opens his arms wide for the frightened puppy. "We'll find him a loving family."

Zayn hands the dog over to Harry and watches with fond eyes as the pup's tiny body practically vibrated in excitement once he is secure in Harry's arms. "He likes you."

"It would seem so."

"Well, uh, I'm off." Zayn scratches his chin, awkward as he hangs by the counter. Harry doesn't notice because he's to busy playing with the new addition to the shelter.

Finally, after a few seconds, Harry lifts his gaze away from the dachshund and holds Zayn's stare. "Drive safely, yeah?"

Zayn deflates, his shoulders hunching. Harry berates himself mentally but doesn't really know why his response merited such a reaction. With a slight feeling of guilt, Harry's forest green eyes follow Zayn's movements as he exits the shelter. However, the dark-haired bloke stops right by the door and turns back around.

"Go on a date with me, Harry."

Wait.

What?


	10. 9 - To accept or not to accept

Harry almost drops the puppy in his arms, shocked into speechlessness. Zayn Malik is asking him out on a date. Him. Harry Nobody Styles.

Watching Harry's reaction, or rather his lack of one, Zayn grows nervous but wills himself to push through. He clears his throat and stands straighter. When he speaks again, he tries to put his utmost sincerity into his every word. "I've been looking all over for you," he admits, a weak smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "God, I've been such an idiot for not remembering your face, huh? I have only realized that it wasn't at the Tilley's dinner party that I saw your eyes first only when I came back to the Tilley's property and you were gone. It was when I thought that I couldn't keep up with the lie that I call my life. I was miserable. I was fed up with all the pretend smiles and agreement. Gigi wanted us to settle down. She brought it up that day we were out together at Manchester. It was literally so fucking early for the talk of marriage but she insisted. I told her I'd think about it and she got mad. She walked out on me. I was pissed off but then I saw these curious green eyes staring right at me and my world stopped. I couldn't hear anything else but my heartbeat pounding in my ears."

There's a lump in Harry's throat that is difficult to swallow. He can only stare at Zayn as the older man struggles to finish putting his thoughts and emotions into words.

"From the moment I was born, my life has been decided and I blindly submitted to that plan, until I saw you, Harry. I've always been a person who followed the rules but one look into your eyes made me want to live and not simply exist. That one exchange that we've shared sparked feelings that I've never felt for anyone before. I know all of this sounds bullshit-"

"They're not," Harry interrupts softly. Zayn stares at him, eyes wide. Bravely, Harry steps away from the counter. He deposits the puppy in his arms to the floor and chuckles when the dachshund scurries to where the other dogs are playing. Harry then approaches Zayn. "I felt the same when you caught me staring at you."

Harry feels his cheeks heat up and suddenly he thinks this is a bad idea. Terrible, even. Zayn is so much more and Harry is merely an orphan with nothing to look forward to. Harry is seriously playing with fire right now, letting himself believe that he deserves Zayn.

"Harry?"

Zayn sees the panic clear in Harry's eyes. Slowly, he reaches out to cup Harry's face in between his hands, gently stroking the younger lad's cheek with his thumb. Harry's eyes slide shut and he leans into the warm touch.

"Give me a chance, Harry," Zayn whispers. He steps closer to the curly brunette, their chests almost touching. "Go on a date with me."

"Zayn, I..."

"I'm not the only one that's feeling this...thing, right?" Zayn questions softly, staring straight into Harry's eyes. "Tell me you feel the same for me, Harry."

"I do. But, Zayn," Harry swallows with a bit of difficulty. "We're too different. You and I. We can't. It's not right?"

Zayn scoffs. "Who says so?"

Harry closes his eyes, defeated. He steps away from the circle of Zayn's arms. "Your status in the society that we live in, your family, your friends, basically the people around you. I don't have anything else to offer you, Zayn."

Grabbing both of Harry's hands in his, Zayn shakes his head fervently. "I don't care about any of those," he says. "I want you, Harry. I've been dreaming of us together and it has been my wish to make it a reality since the night you saved me from a crazed bird."

"Are you s-sure?"

"A hundred and one percent sure, babe."

The pet name gets a smile from Harry. "You move fast, Malik."

Zayn chuckles, squeezing Harry's hands in his. "So, what do you say?"

Although every sane inch of him is protesting, Harry decides to take the plunge for he knows that whatever happens, Zayn is worth everything.

"Yes, I'll go on a date with you."


	11. 10 - Their first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This date is cheesy, I know. Hopefully, you still like it! Leave me some feedback, pretty please? *puppy dog eyes*

Zayn hasn't given out anything specific about where their date will be. All he has told Harry is that he should dress casually and Zayn will be picking him up infront of the animal shelter at 7 in the evening. So, right now, Harry is standing infront of the shelter's building, hoping Zayn will like his outfit. Harry is dressed to impress. He is wearing a thin white shirt underneath a crisp maroon blazer and he has paired it with black skinny jeans and scuffed chelsea boots. His hair, which is growing quite long, is left down, the ends brushing the tops of his shoulders. Harry would like to think he looks alright and he's gotta admit that he feels confident enough to be seen with Zayn looking like this.

A couple of minutes later, Zayn arrives in his sleek luxury car (that Harry totally searched in the internet for the model) - a gleaming black Porsche 918 Spyder. The breathtaking car slows to a graceful stop right infront of Harry and Zayn hops out of it after he has shut the engine off.

The pleased smile that Zayn is wearing completes his casual yet still immaculate look of a satin Louis Vuitton bomber jacket (Harry knows the brand only because it is embroidered right in the middle of said jacket) and black denim jeans, a pair of solid black combat boots covering his feet. His hair is slicked up in a tall quiff and it does nothing but add up to Harry's growing list of favorite Zayn looks.

"Hey."

"H-Hi."

Zayn looks Harry up and down. "You look really good."

Blushing, Harry ducks his head shyly. "You too."

"Thanks," Zayn chuckles and grabs Harry's hand. "Let's go."

Zayn, like a true gentleman, opens the car door for Harry. The younger lad gets even more flustered at that and squeaks a _thank you_. Then, Zayn situates himself behind the wheel. He starts the car, the roar of the powerful engine vibrating inside Harry's chest. Jesus Christ, this car is Harry's dream.

Soon enough, they are off. The car ride is spent in comfortable silence. Seductive RnB notes float in the quiet air inside the car and Harry unconsciously bobs his head to the tune.

"Harry?" Zayn says suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Will you please hand me my phone? It's somewhere in the backseat and I need it because I'm not really familiar with the place that we're going to."

Harry nods quickly. He unbuckles his seatbelt to comfortably stretch out and get Zayn's phone. However, when he turns around, he realizes that it isn't really Zayn's mobile phone that he needs to get from the backseat, but a large bouquet of lavender and a rectangular wooden box that is locked. Harry grabs them both.

"Zayn?"

"Lavender," Zayn starts to say, smiling. "When given as a gift means an opportunity or the promise of a new adventure. Being with you, to me, is the start of an adventure, Harry. Me, who has always been a follower of rules, is now ready to dive head first and think later. I'm ready to live the life that I want and I want it with you, Harry."

Harry's hands are trembling with the overwhelming wave of emotions that he is feeling. By now, he is clutching the bouquet against his chest, inhaling the calming scent of lavender and imagining a lifetime of adventures with Zayn. It's exhilarating, to say the least.

"And the box," Zayn continues. "I've got the key with me and I will only give it to you after our date, so you will see what's inside when you get home."

Harry's heart skips a beat. "O-okay."

Zayn smiles at him. "Good."

They drive a bit more until Harry notices that they've reached the beginnings of the countryside. A few turns later, Zayn parks his car. He exits first, hurrying to Harry's side so he can open the door for him. This time around, Harry is not so shy about being treated like a prince and smiles lovingly at Zayn. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Zayn winks at him, leading him deeper into the woods. "Ready for our date, lovely?"

"Yes," Harry responds, eager and excited for whatever Zayn has planned.

The moment Harry sees the place that Zayn has prepared for them, he is left speechless, his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears.

"Surprise!" Zayn cheers, placing a hand on Harry's back and guiding him to the blanket that is laid flat on top of the grass. "I wanted our first date to be special. I know it's a bit cheesy and all, but I tried my best. I hope you like it."

Harry loves it. Zayn is thorough with his decorations. The secluded area of the woods is brightly lit with fairy lights strung on the bushes and trees. On the ground is a massive picnic blanket - the one with a checkered pattern in red and white colors - and a big basket overflowing with food. There are two dinner plates, wine glasses and two pairs of utensils beside the basket, candles, and a bottle of wine chilled in a wine bucket. Situated on the far corner of the blanket is a turntable and a bunch of vinyl records. Harry itches to look through the collection and listen to them.

"Z-Zayn, this is beautiful," Harry whispers, awed. "Thank you for doing this for me."

Zayn tucks Harry's hair behind his ear. "I'm glad you think so, lovely."

The older of the two then takes off his shoes and socks, placing them away from the blanket, before sitting down. Harry does the same.

"I cooked these for you," Zayn informs Harry while he pulls containers filled with food out of the basket. He takes the lid off of each tupperware and tells Harry what each dish is.

Zayn shows Harry a green-colored risotto. "This is kale risotto." Then, he points to the tupperware with two pieces of roasted salmon and potatoes. "Herb-roasted salmon and crispy baby potatoes. The salad on the side is bitter greens with this sick citrus dressing."

Finally, Zayn shows Harry a tupperware full of little chocolate balls. "And for dessert, I made us some espresso truffles."

On the inside, Harry is mentally swooning for how much effort Zayn has exerted just to make this date a memorable one for Harry. "You're very passionate about your food, Zayn," he says.

"I am," Zayn responds. He busies himself with serving the food in their individual plates. "But, I am more passionate in wanting to impress you, Harry. I haven't done anything like this for my, uh, past relationships. Only with you. So, I stayed a bit on the safer side with food that I'm good at. That way, I know I won't mess up."

Feeling braver than ever, Harry reaches out to take Zayn's hand in his. He squeezes it gently. "Even if you took me out to eat street food, Zayn, it would have still been the best date to me."

"Yeah?" Zayn's eyes are twinkling and Harry thinks the stars above are put to shame because of it.

Harry nods, cheeks pink. "Being with you is enough to me, Zayn."

As quick as lightning, Zayn presses a kiss onto Harry's cheek, which results in both of them blushing. Zayn stammers an apology but Harry assures him that he doesn't mind. Afterwards, the two eat through the food that Zayn has prepared, The Rolling Stone's _Let It Bleed_ album playing on the background. They reach dessert with conversations about anything and everything. Harry has learned alot about Zayn tonight, small quirks and his favorites and he tucks those information fondly into his heart, wanting more.

After their delicious dinner and half of the sauvignon blanc, Harry is decidedly more comfortable around Zayn, a little braver. His smiles come easy now and a permanent blush - probably from the wine - coats his face. In a burst of sudden courage, Harry stands up with a grin, pulling Zayn with him.

"Let's dance, Zayn!" Harry sings, hopping on one foot and then twirling around. He approaches the turntable and pulls out a random vinyl. He doesn't care much for what album he has pulled out and plays it. The opening melody of Ed Sheeran's _One_ starts to play then. Harry's heart rattles inside his chest when it seemed like Ed is singing to the two of them and the relationship that they are trying to start.

Zayn, amused, bows infront of Harry and says, "May I have this dance?"

Harry laughs softly. He takes Zayn's hands in his. "Yes, you may."

Their bodies gravitate toward one another and, before they know it, every inch that is separating them has vanished - chest to chest, palm to palm, Harry swears he is so close to pinching himself to check if this is still his reality. Slowly, one of Zayn's hands find their way to Harry's hips, settling warmly there just as Harry's head tucks itself on the crook between Zayn's neck and shoulders. Then, barefoot and intimately intertwined, Harry and Zayn dance.


	12. 11 - His letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This super short but full of fluff. Enjoy!

_Harry,_

_How are you, my jewel? I hope you're well. Today, I've decided to start writing to you even with the knowledge that these letters will never find their way to you. I know it seems rather pointless, but somehow, I believe that through this action, I will help myself cope with the sudden turn of events._

_I went to see you today. However, you were gone and I couldn't pretend that the pain that I felt was nothing because it wasn't. It was excruciating, crippling, maddening. I was close to tears by the time I got to my bedroom._

_Where in the world are you?_

_Alright, so. For the sake of my sanity, I must ask. Harry, would you think of me as mad if I tell you how much my heart yearns for you? How much these eyes of mine search through a sea of faces looking for yours? We hardly know each other yet I feel as though half of me is missing along with you. Why is that?_

_God, I sound so hopeless when I'm far from it. I'll look for you, even in the corners of the Earth if I have to. What happened today is a mere hurdle that I will overcome. Just like how I have conquered my metaphorical shackles and got my freedom back when I broke up with my arranged fiancée. It was exhilarating!_

_Anyway...I'll find you and when I do, I'll never let you go._

_Zayn_

 

Harry's hands are trembling. He has just read the first letter that Zayn has written for him during the year that they were apart and it's enough to summon a horde of butterflies to flutter happily in his stomach.

He is home now, quietly sitting on his couch with the box, which Zayn has given him earlier, perched on his lap. As he has promised, Harry has opened the little treasure box only inside the safety of his flat. He is pleasantly surprised to find a small mountain of handwritten letters and notes, which are ranging from pieces of papers with romantic one liners to the two pages long confessions, all by Zayn himself and addressed to Harry.

Excited to find more, Harry pulls another piece of paper, this time a small note.

 

_If kisses were stars, I'd give you the sky._

 

Harry blushes at that, biting his bottom lip to keep from smiling like a nutter. He finds another letter, a fairly short one, and reads it.

 

_Harry,_

_There are certain people who come into your life, and leave a mark...Their place in your heart is tender; a bruise of longing, a pulse of unfinished business. Just hearing their names pushes and pulls at you in a hundred ways, and when you try to define those hundred ways, describe them even to yourself, words are useless._

_You're that person to me, you know._

_Zayn_

 

"Oh god," Harry groans. He clutches the box against his chest, squeezing his eyes shut. There is a noticeable flush to his cheeks, the smile on his lips wide. "I can live up to a hundred with these alone."

The letter that he picks up next looks recent and when he reads it, he gets that confirmation.

 

_Harry,_

_My precious emerald. My jewel. I finally found you again. Who knew a little mishap with a dog will lead me back to you? I am eternally grateful to the dachshund for disrupting my boring daily routine. It is because of him that I was able to gaze into your eyes again. Oh, what a feeling it is, to be lost in your gaze._

_I've missed you a whole lot. Honestly, I've been living with a "Harry Styles-shaped hole" in my heart for a year now. It was terrible, I tell you. I ran around feeling incomplete._

_But! All of that is over now. You agreed to go on a date with me! I'm over the moon. I thank my lucky stars for this opportunity and I plan to use it wisely; you'll be mine and I'll be yours._

_Soon._

_Zayn_

_PS. You calm my mind and set my heart on fire. You're that beautiful combination._


	13. 12 - The calm before the storm

Harry and Zayn have been dating for a year now and officially a couple for half of it. So far, it has been the best months of Harry's life. Although their relationship remains as a well-kept secret, Harry doesn't mind. To him, it is the best option right now because if any member of Zayn's family or the media finds out about Zayn having a committed relationship with a member of the same sex, there's a big chance of Zayn getting hurt and he doesn't want that. He is content to stay in their own little piece of heaven with no one sticking their nose in their business. It is just him and Zayn, happily in love with each other.

Snapped out of his thoughts, Harry feels the nudge of a wet nose against his shin. He looks down with a smile and spots Eclair, the dachshund that Zayn brought to the shelter months ago and the one that Harry adopted a month later, staring at him with puppy dog eyes, his tail wagging. Harry scoops him up and cuddles him close to his chest.

"Hey, Eclair," Harry coos. He then sighs heavily, gently squeezing the pups' small body. "I miss your papa. Do you think he misses us?"

Eclair licks under Harry's jaw, comforting him. Zayn is at LA for a business trip. It has been two weeks now that Harry hasn't seen his boyfriend and it is the longest that they've gone without seeing each other. He misses him terribly, despite the long skype calls and chats. Harry wants to hold Zayn in his arms, warm and solid. He wants to kiss Zayn's lips and caress his cheeks. He needs him.

"He's been gone too long."

Eclair barks loudly and squirms, trying to get out of Harry's arms. Harry puts the dog down, watching as he runs around and plays with his toys. He lays on the couch, curling up and imagining Zayn is behind him, always his big spoon.

A few moments later, there is a knock on Harry's door. With a confused frown, Harry gets up to answer it. Honestly, no one has knocked on Harry's door for ages. With regards to his rent, Harry pays Liam on time. He doesn't order take out and shops online, thus no pizza delivery boy or courier is going to knock on his door. As for visitors, Niall has been MIA since the day he left Harry to return to Ireland and hasn't called Harry once, so he's definitely out of the options. And Zayn? Well, he has a spare key to Harry's flat that he can just use to enter.

To be on the safe side, Harry peeks through the peephole to check the identity of the person outside. He frowns, confused, when he sees only the top of the bloke's head and the massive bouquet of flowers that is obscuring the stranger's face from his view. Harry is a bit hesitant to open the door but does so, anyway, hearing Eclair bark loudly.

"Hey, umm, what can I help you with?" Harry greets the unknown person. He yelps when the big bunch of flowers is shoved into his hands. Harry's green eyes fall to the strange mix of dandelion, fully bloomed red roses and some yellow flowers, which he doesn't know the name of, and misses the self-satisfied smirk of the bloke infront of him.

"Dandelion, it means wish come true and happiness."

Harry's gaze snaps up and towards Zayn who is, apparently, his visitor. He gapes in surprise, eyes wide.

"You're my wish come true, my happiness, Harry," Zayn continues. He steps inside Harry's flat and locks the door behind himself. "The fully bloomed roses mean gratitude. I am beyond thankful for having you in my life, my love."

By now, Zayn has Harry cornered against the wall. He leans close to Harry's face, grinning. There is merely an inch between their lips and, although, aching for a taste of Harry's mouth, Zayn finishes his little speech. "Finally, primrose, which means I can't live without you. Because I truly cannot, Haz."

Harry, without any further ado, places his free hand behind Zayn's head, bridging the gap between them and pulling him in for a much needed kiss. The contact of their lips is by no means innocent or sweet; it's searing and breathtaking. Harry's fingers are entangled in Zayn's freshly-cut hair while Zayn tongue is engaged in a playful dance with Harry's very own. Zayn's hands then sneakily creep underneath Harry's ratty shirt to rest comfortably on the younger lad's warm skin. Harry shivers and breaks the kiss to pant against Zayn's mouth, "Welcome home, love."

Zayn chuckles, pecking Harry's lips in quick successions. "Thank you, baby," he croons, squeezing Harry's hips. "Were you surprised?"

"Did you not see how far my jaw dropped when I realized it was you infront of me?" Harry teases. It is a testament to how much the two have gotten closer over time because Harry is no longer always so shy around Zayn. He even teases and jokes with him now.

Zayn pretends to think about it. He leans back, away from Harry's personal bubble and taps his chin. "I did," he confirms. Then, a shit-eating grin stretches across his lips. "I even saw a couple of flies enter your mouth, actually."

Harry pretends to be offended. "You did not," he yelps, laughing towards the end.

"Alright fine, I didn't," Zayn responds with his own amused chuckle. He bends down and takes his shoes off, placing them neatly besides Harry's beloved chelsea boots.

The couple moves to the dining table, where Harry starts to fix the flowers into a vase full of clean water. He works quickly and efficiently, almost like a seasoned florist. Because Zayn has always given Harry flowers and the curly-haired lad likes putting them on display, he has learned the skills over time.

"Do you want anything, Zayn? A glass of water? Tea? I've got day old bread that I can use for a quick pudding if you'd like," Harry fusses.

Zayn shakes his head. "I ate on the plane ride home, love."

Harry nods in understanding. Suddenly, a tiny body trots in and zooms past Harry to cling to Zayn's leg. "Ah."

"However," Zayn says, picking Eclair up and hugging the dog gently. "I am terribly low in my vitamin U and in dire need of cuddles."

That gets Zayn a precious laugh from Harry, who gazes at him with loving green eyes. "Well then, I'm glad to inform you that you've come to the right place. Vitamin me is abundant here and I'm not the one to brag, but I give healing cuddles."

An hour later, cuddled on top of Harry's single bed are the two lovers, holding each other tightly even in their sleep.


	14. 13 - An approaching storm

"Good evening, Zayn," Harry greets as soon as Zayn steps inside his flat. He pauses with his task of washing the dishes and dries his hand. Then, he moves to properly welcome Zayn, kissing him softly on the lips. "How was your day?"

There is a noticeable sadness around Zayn that Harry couldn't help but notice, especially in the grim line of his lips. He sighs heavily at Harry's question, plopping face first into the couch. Worried, Harry kneels infront of Zayn, threading his fingers through the older lad's messy hair.

"What's wrong?"

Zayn groans. "My parents."

"What about them, babe?" Harry asks. He pets Zayn's head gently in comfort, wanting nothing more than for those golden irises to look into his. "Zayn? I'm sorry for being pushy, but I really need you to talk to me. I'm getting worried because this isn't like you."

The hard line of Zayn's shoulders deflates at Harry's words. He sits up slowly and faces Harry with stormy eyes.

"They had me meet up with Gigi earlier," Zayn mutters, irritated. He frowns deeply. "I thought it was just something like a friendly lunch or maybe another deal with the Hadid's marketing firm or summat. But, I should've known better. My parents don't dilly dally and do friendly lunch meetings."

For some reason, Harry feels dread creep up his spine and settle there.

"They want the marriage to go back on," Zayn whispers, voice breaking. "They think its the best move for both of our companies, especially since none of us - Gigi and I - seemed to be in a committed relationship. It'll facilitate a smoother merge and all that bullshit."

"Erm, what are you, uh, going to do?" Harry fears Zayn's answer.

"Fuck them," Zayn scoffs. He has his determined face on as he crosses his arms over his chest. "If they seriously think that I'm going to be their business puppet again, then they're wrong. As cliché as it is, I'm not going to marry someone that I don't love."

Harry sits beside Zayn, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Alright. I'm here if you need me, okay?"

"I know." Zayn kisses Harry's cheek. "I've got an idea, babe."

Harry perks up. "Lay it on me."

"I want you to join us for dinner," Zayn says. The expression on his face is that of genuine belief, perhaps in his mind he thinks this'll definitely solve his problems. "I want my parents to meet you."

The color on Harry's face drains quickly. He looks faint. "Are you...are you sure?"

"Yes. I think this is the right time, Haz."

Harry shivers a bit despite the summer heat, nervous beyond words. He wants to say no, curl up on Zayn's side and tell him how terrible this idea is. However, the look of hope and joy on Zayn's face is lovely and Harry doesn't want to be the one to wipe it out. "O-okay then."

Zayn grins, not noticing the sudden distraught state of his boyfriend. "Thank you, love." He then pulls his phone out and dials his mum's number. He steps into Harry's bedroom just as his mother answers his call. With excitement, Zayn informs her of the dinner plans and that he has a surprise for the family. On the other line, Trisha makes sure to squeeze the date of the dinner in their family's hectic schedule, truly wondering what her secretive son has in store for them.

Meanwhile, still slumped on the couch, Harry is freaking out. Scenarios fill his head and none of them are exactly...good. He thinks of how much he struggles to live a comfortable life while Zayn drives around town with a bloody Porsche. They aren't compatible and he knows that this will throw a massive brick to the way things are at the moment. Harry doesn't want Zayn to get hurt, especially if Zayn's parents don't find Harry suitable for their son.

"My mum is excited, Haz," Zayn says as he returns to the living room. He is grinning now, mood obviously lifted. "She has scheduled the dinner the day after tomorrow, so make sure to clear your packed schedule by then."

Harry smiles weakly at his boyfriend, bringing one of his thumbs up. Despite the overwhelming feelings of insecurity, Harry still tries to be the support that Zayn needs. "Got it, love."

Zayn straddles Harry then, pushing him down to lie on his back.

Harry flushes bright red at their compromising position. "Zayn!"

Warm hands push Harry's shirt up and soon they come in contact with the soft skin of Harry's tummy. The curly-haired lad squirms underneath Zayn, feeling ticklish. Then, Zayn smirks and leans down to nibble on the smooth skin of Harry's neck.

"What are you d-doing, Zayn?" The younger of the two grunts, tilting his head to the side and giving Zayn more room to work on his neck.

"You looked upset, love. I'm cheering you up." Zayn's lips are so close to Harry's skin as he speaks and the warmth of his breath fanning over the pale expanse causes goosebumps to erupt on it.

Harry shivers and looks away from Zayn's assessing gaze. He stares at a particular spot on the couch cushion while Zayn frowns in confusion.

"Harry, love?"

Squirming, Harry tries to dislodge Zayn off of his body. He doesn't want to explain to Zayn the reason why he's suddenly in a different mood. However, Zayn is having none of it and stays on top of Harry, still straddling him. "What's wrong, Haz? And don't try to get out of this by saying it's nothing."

Harry sighs softly.

"Why are you suddenly so blue, my love?"

"What if..." Harry hesitates to continue his question, but Zayn turns his face and smiles encouragingly at him when they lock eyes. "What if your family doesn't find me suitable for you? What if they dislike me?"

The genuine panic and downcast expression on Harry's face is more than what Zayn can handle, so he cups Harry's face in between his hands and presses kisses all over it. When Harry cracks and starts giggling, ticklish as always, Zayn stops with his kissing attacks.

"I'm sure they'll be surprised, at first," Zayn tells Harry. He rubs his thumb on Harry's cheek gently, staring into clear green eyes with adoration. "But, I'm sure once they get to know you, they'll love you, Haz. You're so easy to adore. Plus, my mum is understanding and I'm sure once she sees how much you make me happy, she'll accept us."


	15. 14 - Hurricane (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has dinner with the Malik family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit is about to go down.

As the door to the Malik Manor swings open, the mantra that is playing on loop inside Harry's head increases in speed and volume, almost blurring, deafening; _Don't turn us away. Give us a chance. This is love. Please accept us. Please accept me._

Of course, like most things in Harry's life, this one is not to be given so easily.

"Good evening, Beth," Zayn greets the woman on the door. She is wearing a maid's uniform and a warm smile that eases a bit of the tension on Harry's shoulder, especially when she redirects the grin to him.

Harry smiles shyly in return and offers a hand out, which the middle-aged woman accepts and shakes firmly. "Good evening, ma'am. I'm Harry Styles."

"Nice to meet you, lad. I'm Beth, the head housekeeper of this mansion." Beth nods and ushers the two inside. "Zayn, your parents and sisters are waiting for you. Let us not waste any more time." Then, she leads them through various hallways and to the dining room, where Zayn's family members are, in fact, seated around a massive rose wood dining table overflowing with different dishes.

Leaving the two young men by the doorway, Beth enters the dining room and goes straight to where Zayn's parents are. She quietly converses with them, informing the couple of Zayn and his guest's arrival. Zayn's father nods and gestures for Beth to let them in. The head housekeeper excuses herself and fetches Zayn and Harry.

"Your father says you can come in now, Zayn."

"Thank you, Beth."

Then, it's just Zayn and Harry again. The older of the two notices how badly Harry is shaking with nervous energy, face pale. Gently, Zayn takes his boyfriend in his arms and soothes him. "Oh, love," he croons softly. "Don't be so nervous. They're my family and will also be yours soon enough. You'll be okay."

The implication and deeper meaning of what Zayn has said hasn't escaped Harry's notice despite the overwhelming fear that has currently enveloped his whole being; Zayn wants to marry him someday, and it is enough motivation for Harry to get himself together and go through this dinner. He inhales deeply, trying his hardest to calm down. For Zayn. He doesn't want to let Zayn down, most especially infront of his own family. "Yeah," he forces out, letting out an exhale. "Let's do this."

Zayn beams and steals a quick kiss from Harry's lips. He reaches for one of Harry's hands and grasps it tightly, drawing more strength from his younger boyfriend because, although Zayn is trying to act strong, he's a bit scared as well. "That's my beautiful boy. My brave Harry."

Weakly, Harry smiles, squeezing Zayn's fingers. The mantra in his head starts up again, a broken record.

_Don't turn us away. Give us a chance. This is love. Please accept us. Please accept me._

The Maliks are conversing softly among themselves. Zayn's parents are engaged in a chat about their multinational company, business jargons, which are mere gibberish to others, being thrown back and forth between them. The lovely young ladies - Zayn's sisters - are in their own playful conversation, laughing softly.

Zayn clears his throat. "Good evening."

The chatters and laughter die down instantly. Four sets of eyes then zero in on the couple.

"Son," Zayn's father says, his calculating eyes gazing at Harry and their intertwined hands. "It's nice of you to join us. Have a seat."

Zayn pulls Harry closer to the dining table. "Harry, these are my parents, Yaser and Patricia Malik, and my sisters, Doniya, Waliyha and Safaa Malik."

Harry gives them his best smile, the one where both of his dimples leave deep indentions on his cheeks. Despite the rolling of his stomach, the queasiness and crippling fear of rejection, Harry manages to introduce himself without a stutter. "My name's Harry Styles. It's nice to finally meet you all."

By the end of Harry's sentence, only Waliyha and Safaa are wearing smiles. Yaser, Patricia and Doniya all look at Harry with varying degrees of suspicion.

"He's my boyfriend," Zayn adds after the pause.

The admission of Zayn's relationship with Harry is met with more silence. It is so overbearing that Harry, in a moment of weakness, wishes they'd yell at him instead of this uncomfortable icy disapproval.

Finally, it seems like manners and proper education won and Trisha gestures to the empty seats. "Sit down and let us eat."

Harry's hands tremble so hard that he drops his soup spoon twice, the loud clatter of the utensil against the expensive surface of the tabletop eliciting winces and glares from the members of the family. Zayn, feeling his heart go out to his lover, who is a bundle of nerves at the moment, drops a hand on Harry's thigh and pats it gently. "Calm down, love," he whispers soothingly.

Trisha overhears and the expression of disgust on her face is so intense, it's insane. She opens her mouth to talk when Beth makes an appearance, announcing another arrival. Upon hearing the name of the guests, Trisha's sour mood fades and her expression is that of delight. Soon enough, two tall women enter the dining room, their high heels clanking against the marble floors. They look alot like each other, both of them have blue eyes but the one is blonde and the other is a brunette. They are dressed in these short skirts and flowy tops that are obviously expensive, showing off flawless golden skin.

All members of the Malik family, including Zayn, stand up to greet them and Harry feels himself shrinking further when he remembers the dismissal and icy reception that he has received from these same set of people. The guests receive kisses on the cheek and warm smiles. Zayn himself is smiling but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Gigi."

The realization that he is seeing the same young woman, from when he first saw Zayn, has Harry's eyes widening. His heart clenches painfully when the pretty blonde smiles widely and sweeps Zayn into a hug.

"Zaynie, hey," she says sweetly, kissing Zayn's cheek. "Did you miss me?"

"Not one bit," Zayn mutters under his breath. It is loud enough that Gigi forces a fake giggle to cover up her annoyance. Then, she notices Harry. "Who is this pretty boy?"

The brunette young woman peers at Harry with glittering blue eyes, swoons at his lovely face and laughs. "Finally! Someone for me."

Gigi grins and nudges the girl. "Bella, you're embarrassing me," she says. "Zayn, will you introduce me to your friend?"

"Gigi, Bella," Zayn says as he proudly takes Harry's hand. "This is Harry Styles. He's my boyfriend."

Gigi and Bella's face fall at the unexpected answer.

"Hi," Harry greets them softly. "Nice to meet you."

As expected, Gigi looks at Harry likes he is dirt underneath her louboutins. Bella, on the other hand, is all awkward half-smile as she sits down next to Waliyha. If looks could kill, Gigi's glare would have killed Harry and then brought him back to life just to have a brutal second death. It's that vicious.

Dinner is an exercise in hostility. Trisha, Gigi and Doniya make it their missions to completely alienate Harry. Trisha and Gigi talk endlessly about Zayn and Gigi's past relationship, conversing about the cancelled wedding and its meticulous preparations as though it'll happen again. Meanwhile Doniya has dominated Zayn's attention completely, talking to him about his business trips, meetings and deals. Because Zayn is occupied, Harry is forced to listen to Zayn's mum and ex-fiancée's coversation, a crushing weight of painful emotions continuously pressing him down. Harry tries to ignore everything and focuses on finishing his small portion of food, fighting to keep it down and not to vomit it all over the pristine table infront of him.

Trisha notices Harry's extreme discomfort and smirks to herself. She loathes his existence and wants to make sure he knows it. When her and Gigi's topics of conversation run out, Trisha focuses on Harry.

"So, Harry," she calls out. "Where are your parents? What do they do?" She tries to look as if she cares about the boy's life when, in all honesty, she just wants to humiliate him. Plus, Trisha doesn't want to get on Zayn's bad side if she insults the boy outright. If she wants to break him, she'll have to do it subtly and make it appear as though Harry did it to himself.

"I'm...I don't, uh, have parents," Harry replies quietly. "I'm an orphan."

And a useless excuse of a human being, Trisha wants to say, irked. "I see. Well, what do you do? Do you have a job? Where do you live? Where do you get your money?"

Zayn sighs heavily. "Mum."

Trisha goes for an innocent look, shrugging elegantly. "I'm just asking these questions as a mother, sunshine. I have to know things about my son's...partner." Oh, how she wishes to throw the young boy out of her house for involving himself in their lives, especially Zayn's.

Harry slouches further in his seat, making himself seem smaller. "I work at a bakery in the mornings, volunteer at an animal shelter in the afternoon and wait tables at a beer garden at night. I, umm, live in an apartment building near the city."

Yaser looks unimpressed by the information that Harry has provided. Then, surprising his family, he says, "Volunteering at an animal shelter is a waste of time. You obviously need the money, so why work for free? That's such a foolish thing to do."

Harry winces, ducking his head in embarrassment. Trisha grins triumphantly to herself.

Zayn, on the other hand, is getting angry. "Stop giving him shit, dad," he retorts in Harry's defense. "It's his life and he is free to live it whichever way he wants to."

The tension inside the dining room is so thick, Harry feels suffocated.

"I'm merely telling him my opinion, Zayn," Yaser replies, voice hard. "It is up to him to take such opinion and learn from it. Besides, who gives you the right to curse at the dining table? Didn't we raise you better than that?"

By now, Zayn is turning red in the face, furious. "Nanny Elise raised me, not you."

Sensing the growing fight against father and son, Harry grabs Zayn's hand and squeezes it. "Stop it, Zayn," he whispers gently. "He's your dad. Don't talk to him like that."

Everyone waits with bated breath for Zayn's next move. Luckily, he drops the issue and turns away from his father's gaze. Trisha, Doniya and Gigi collectively stare accusingly at Harry, blaming him for what has happened. Harry squirms underneath their burning gazes.

A few minutes later, dessert is being served. Conversations are back and this time, to further make Harry uncomfortable, the women of the table talk about their achievements and career, seeing as Zayn's boyfriend is a mere highschool graduate that is juggling two odd jobs, voluntary work and struggling.

Trisha updates her family and guests of the new spring collection that she has designed for her well-known high fashion line. She also tells them about her additional properties, which are recently bought.

Doniya is happy to announce that her footballer fiancé has signed a new contract with his team and that she is launching a new set of matte lipsticks for her popular cosmetics brand.

Gigi, a famous supermodel, has just finished walking for Victoria's Secret and is scheduled to be on the next month's cover of Vogue and a popular men's health magazine. According to her, her parent's company is doing exceptionally well, too, closing deals with big companies, like Sony and EMI.

"Zayn?"

"Yeah, babe?"

Harry looks around the table, relieved that no one seems to be watching his every move. Zayn's parents, Gigi, Bella and his sisters are currently occupied. "Can I go to the loo?"

Zayn tries to stand up. "Come on, I'll take you there."

Harry shakes his head, smiling a bit. He puts a hand on Zayn's forearm. "It's alright, I got it. Just tell me how to get there."

"Are you sure?"

"It's not like a Katerina will be waiting outside the door when I finish, right?" Harry chuckles softly, remembering the situation that caused their first proper meeting.

Zayn snickers. "No, I guess not," he says. "Alright." Then, he gives the instructions to where the loo is.

Hurriedly, Harry slips out of his seat and the extravagant dining room, eager to escape the restricting presence of people who are trying their hardest to make him feel unworthy of someone as beautiful and good as Zayn. He follows Zayn's directions and gets to the restroom without any problems, whatsoever. He goes about doing his business. Afterwards, he washes his hand and splashes water on his face. He looks into his eyes on the mirror, wincing when he gazes at his weary expression.

"No wonder they dislike me," Harry murmurs to himself, touching the puffy eyebags underneath his tired eyes and stretching the skin. He sighs and pulls a few strips of paper towel to dry his face and hands. After this, he stumbles out of the restroom. He retraces his steps and runs into someone waiting for him by the stairs.

It's Trisha and she's livid.


	16. 15 - Hurricane (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An explosion of emotions. An ultimatum. A choice.

"What do you want with my son?"

"I want to be with him."

Trisha scoffs loudly. She steps closer to Harry and, although she's a head shorter than him, she manages to send the boy cowering. "Well, I think you're lying."

Harry looks confused, eyebrows pulled together in the middle of his forehead.

"How much do you want, huh? £100,000? Half a million? How about a car? His Porsche perhaps? A penthouse? Come on, tell me." Trisha has this sneering expression on as she speaks.

Shaking his head, Harry backs away until he is pressed flat against the wall. He is in great disbelief; he cannot stomach the thought that this woman, Zayn's own mother, nonetheless, thinks Zayn is only desirable because of his riches and nothing else.

"I don't need his or your money. I want to love Zayn and make him happy. Why can't you see it?"

Harry, somehow, manages to slip out from Trisha's clutches. He takes quick strides away from her but he's too weak for some reason and the next thing he knows, a hand is wrapped around his forearm in a vice-like grip.

Trisha tugs Harry back, making him stumble and crumple to the floor with his forearm dangling in the air, still in her hold. She digs her sharp nails on his arm, hard enough that she breaks his soft skin. Dark red blood starts to well up from the tiny crescent cuts.

"Please let go," Harry whimpers softly. He tries to yank his arm back, only resulting in Trisha tightening her hold on him. "You're hurting me."

"Not until you leave my Zayn alone," Trisha counters. She enjoys his sharp intake of breath. "What will it be, huh? Money? House? A car? A decent job?"

For the first time ever since he stepped onto the house, Harry musters up his courage and glares at Zayn's mum. He has had enough and will not let her continue believing that he is only after the wealth that comes with Zayn's name when it isn't. He will not leave Zayn, even if he has nothing but the clothes on his back, Harry will still love him and be with him.

"If you think I am only with Zayn because he's rich then you are wrong, Mrs. Malik. I'm with him because I love him. I love making him smile and laugh. I love serving him and taking care of him. Isn't that enough for you?"

"No," Trisha scoffs. "You'll never be someone I want for my son."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you but Zayn wants me as much as I want him," Harry responds, wriggling a bit to dislodge the iron grip on his arm. A second later, he feels the sharp pain of a slap against his cheek.

"Mum, what the fuck are you doing?" Zayn cries out, anger clear in his golden irises because he has seen his mother's palm connecting with a loud smack to Harry's cheek. He rushes to Harry's side and tugs his arm out of his mum's grip. Zayn sees the bloody cuts and grimaces, blood boiling, before helping Harry to stand up and putting him behind himself as if to protect him from his mother. "Why did you hurt him?"

There is the feeling of guilt deep within Zayn for dragging Harry into this mess. He knows that his family hasn't been exactly welcoming to the young lad and that Harry is in discomfort the whole time. He hates that Gigi even showed up to the dinner, where Harry is supposedly the main guest, the one who is being introduced to the family, and takes the privilege of getting to know the Maliks away from the boy and instead making it about her, as usual. Even Doniya seems to be against Harry tonight and now this, Zayn's mum hurts Harry.

Zayn has had enough.

"Come on, Haz," Zayn says, pulling Harry flush against his side and heading towards the exit. "Let's go home."

Trisha is hot on their heels. "You'll regret this, Zayn. That boy will be of no help to you, whatsoever. People like him use people like you, like us, for their personal gains."

"That's where you are wrong, mum," Zayn answers as they walk, passing the dining room where the occupants are all wide-eyed, watching the growing commotion. "Harry is nothing like that."

"How well do you know him?" Trisha presses on, determined to change Zayn's mind. But, it seems like Zayn isn't swayed so easily, not even bothering to answer and merely continuing towards the front door with Harry in tow. So, as a last ditch effort, Trisha says, "Take one step out of this house and you are no longer my son."

Zayn and Harry stop at the door then turn to look at Trisha.

"You're making me choose?" Zayn asks incredulously. He drops Harry's hand and stares into his mother's eyes.

Trisha nods. "Yes, I am. Now, that filth," she points to Harry, then, "Or us, your family? If you choose him, we will disown you. If you choose us, you'll continue with your life as you know it."

Zayn starts shaking. He is torn. He loves Harry and cannot imagine a life without him, but at the same time, his family means a lot to him as well. They are his first love...but certainly not his greatest. Frankly, he has felt more love within the circle of Harry's arms than within the walls of this mansion all throughout his life.

"I'm coming home with Harry," Zayn says, sudden and with so much conviction. Trisha's triumphant smile fades to a frown. In the dining room, Yaser is fuming along with Gigi and Doniya, wondering how Harry has managed to completely lure Zayn into his trap. Waliyha and Safaa, on the other hand, have tears in their eyes for their brother and, to some extent, Harry, too.

"That boy cannot give you what we can," Trisha screeches, having reached the end of her rope. "He cannot give you children of your own! He's a boy, for goodness' sake! He's a poor boy with no direction in life and you're choosing him?"

"Yes! I'd choose him over and over and over again!"

Behind Zayn, Harry gasps and he hurriedly turns Zayn around. He smiles weakly at him, the taste of tears in his tongue. "Hey, hey, hey, Zayn," he tuts softly, wiping away the tears dripping down Zayn's face. "Calm down, my love. This is not right. No. You're rushing into things."

A choked sob escapes Zayn's throat and Harry feels a piece of his heart turn to dust at the painful sound. Zayn shakes his head furiously, bottom lip trembling. "I love you."

This is the first time that these words have been spoken between the two of them and Harry's only wish is that it is uttered under different circumstances, but he'll take it. After all, beggars can't be choosers. Harry cups Zayn's face in his hands, looking deeply into his eyes. "I love you, too. Always and forever."

"Let's go home then, Haz."

Harry is the one shaking his head this time. He takes a step back from Zayn, then another, until he is pressed against the door. A part of his brain is screaming at him, calling him an idiot for letting Zayn think twice about his decision. This part is also commanding him to be selfish for once and to fight equally for his right to be with Zayn. Harry does neither, says, "Zayn, your mum is right. I cannot give you what you need, what you want. But, they can. Think hard about your decision, love. Please don't act so rashly."

Harry takes one look at Zayn's wide-eyed, panicked expression and sees his struggle, the dilemma that he is facing because he is forced to choose. The curly haired lad readies himself for whatever decision Zayn makes and reminds himself that it is still better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

"I'll be here by the door, Zayn."

Turning his back to them, Harry decides to wait for Zayn's decision with his eyes closed. He waits and waits until it becomes certain that Zayn has changed his mind and has chosen his family over Harry. Well, no surprise there, really.

With his heart as heavy as lead, Harry quietly escapes the confines of the Malik mansion, not bothering to look back. He struggles to walk up to the massive steel gates of the property, his knees wobbling badly. The tears of defeat have arrived early, leaking out of his eyes ever since the realization that he has lost Zayn.

Outside the gates of the mansion, Harry falters finally, crumpling to the ground with his body shaking violently, the force of his sobs intense and continuous. Every fiber in Harry's body is crying out for Zayn and it's painful but also numbing.

Harry supposes that this is his and Zayn's midnight, the clock striking twelve, the end of their fairytale. He reckons that the fairy godmother's magic must be fading by now and Harry is back to rags, the other half of his glass slippers missing and never to be found again. It's devastating to think about, but if it really comes down to it, Harry's more than grateful to have shared the past year with Zayn, he'll take it over nothing, any day. He's just going to have to move on, like always.

Still, Harry stays slumped on the cold ground, mourning the lost of the only good thing in his life, his tears dripping like two endless waterfalls on his flushed cheeks. He bites down on his fist to muffle the sounds of his heaving sobs, not wanting to cause any scene if anyone happens to pass by and notice him. He doubts the possibility of that happening, though, because as far as he knows, it's well into the evening and in an exclusive subdivision as massive as this one, the next mansion is a good few meters away.

Minutes pass by and Harry is about to stand up and leave this awful place, when he hears the loud creak of the Malik mansion's gates scraping against the cement as it opens. He grows nervous, expecting the worst person to come out and hurt him even more. He doesn't hear any vehicle, though, so whoever this is, must really be going out to settle things with him. In his exhausted state, Harry fails to notice that his logic is a bit flawed, seeing as not one member of the Malik family knows he is still outside.

Hearing rushed footsteps against the ground, Harry tries to make himself seem smaller, curling up tightly and, hopefully, out of sight. He nearly jumps out of his skin when a warm body envelopes his in a crushing embrace.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Harry hears the person chant like a prayer, his breath catching in his throat, because the voice belongs to none other than Zayn.

"Zayn?" Harry breathes out, scared that he's only imagining things.

Zayn squeezes Harry gently. "I'm sorry. I'm not leaving you. Never."

Does this mean that Zayn has chosen Harry, after all? Harry's heart soars at that and he fights to keep the relieved tears at bay, although a few still manage to slip out. He wonders how in the world he still has tears left to shed when earlier he has cried enough liquid to last him through the oncoming summer.

"Z-Zayn," Harry whimpers, returning Zayn's embrace and clutching the dark-haired man like a lifeline. "You came back for m-me?"

"Yes, god yes," Zayn cries, burying his nose into Harry's hair. "I'm sorry I took so long. I had to get some of my things."

"Why did you leave your family for me?"

"I love you," Zayn whispers in response. "Primrose, remember? I can't live without you, Harry."

Harry sobs then, his whole body shaking against Zayn's. "I love you, too. So much. I thought I lost y-you."

"Never, love."

Zayn's heart hurts for the things that has happened tonight. He feels tears fall from his own eyes for the lost of his family but then there is the relief of having the man he loves the most back in his arms and it is lessening the pain, somewhat. Zayn presses his cheek on top of Harry's head and sniffles.

"We'll be okay, Haz."


	17. 16 - No turning back

With a bit of persuasion and pleading green eyes, Harry is able to convince Zayn to pursue his dreams of being in the music industry as a singer or a songwriter. Zayn is skeptic, of course, unsure if he's talented enough to make it in. Harry, though, is anything but persistent, especially in his tireless pursuit of making Zayn happy, to see him smile genuinely again.

"You'll do great, Zayn," Harry says as he rubs a towel through the older lad's dark hair, which is still wet from his shower. Zayn has protested earlier, says he can do the task of drying his own hair just fine but Harry insisted because he likes doing things for his boyfriend, no matter how small they may seem. "You've got a nice voice and you're gorgeous! They are absolutely bonkers if they turn you down."

Zayn cracks a small smile, not quite reaching his eyes. Ever since his family has disowned him, Zayn's smiles are hard to come by and his laughter even harder. The transition from having only the best of everything to nothing at all has been hard for him and Harry feels guilty for it because he knows it is his fault that the Maliks are now one family member short. No matter how much Harry tries hard not to think about it, he knows it is true; Zayn is now without a family and it is all because of him and his perpetual bad luck.

"You think I'm gorgeous, Haz?" Zayn teases with a chuckle, snapping Harry out of his depressing thoughts. He tilts his head up to look at Harry with his lovely golden eyes. There is a tiny smirk playing on his lips and helpless Harry wants to lean down and kiss him senseless. "I'm flattered, really."

The curly brunette rolls his eyes playfully and kisses the tip of his boyfriend's nose, muttering, "Cheeky."

Harry then drops the towel onto the bed and wraps his arms around Zayn from behind, squeezing him gently. "You're easily the most beautiful human being that I've ever laid eyes upon, Zayn. You're not just gorgeous, but breathtaking. I am very lucky to have you and call you as mine," he confesses quietly, trembling when he feels Zayn's warm hands on top of his.

"Yours, Haz," Zayn whispers softly, voice thick with affection and it is all for Harry. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Harry responds just as quietly. "Always."

"Alright. I'll go to the studio and turn a few of my written pieces in. Crossing my fingers that they'll like me."

Harry huffs and nuzzles his face on Zayn's wild hair. "Like you? They'll worship you, babe."

Zayn laughs genuinely this time and turns in Harry's arms. He leans up and kisses Harry sweetly.

The next day, Harry waits for Zayn's arrival with bated breath, fidgeting on the couch, still smelling like beer and clad with his uniform for his job at Liam's beer garden. He is anxious to hear Zayn's news, his fingers crossed that his boyfriend comes home with something positive.

After a few seconds, the front door creaks open and then closed, the lock sliding in place afterwards. Eclair barks loudly from his place beside Harry, scurrying to the door in a matter of seconds. Harry waits for a few moments then stands up to greet Zayn, frowning deeply when he sees the dullness of the older man's eyes even as he has Eclair cuddled close to him.

"Hey, love," Harry says with open arms. "How was the visit at the studio?"

Releasing their pup to the floor, Zayn then willingly pushes himself into Harry's arms, dropping most of his weight onto the younger man. He sighs heavily. "It was alright," he answers. "They think I have the talent but, apparently, it's not enough to make the cut."

The taller of the two maneuvers both of their bodies so they can comfortably sit on the couch. He cups Zayn's face in between his palms and looks deeply into his eyes. "What do you mean? You're talented but?"

"There's loads more others that are much better choices for them than me."

"Well, that's not very nice of them," Harry huffs, clearly angry that Zayn's dream is being trampled on by others. "It's their loss. Anyway, try to go to other recording studios."

Imagine Harry's surprise when Zayn shakes his head and scoots away from him. The older lad stretches out, laying his head on the back of the couch and staring up at the ceiling. "I don't think it's practical for me to spend money and effort on something that won't be happening anytime soon, Haz. I have to be practical because the money that I have in my wallet isn't unlimited."

Once again, Harry feels that painful twinge in his chest, the guilt and sadness gripping him when he is reminded that Zayn has nothing now. The days following his decision to be with Harry, Zayn has tried to access his bank account and use his credit cards to get them into a larger flat and buy some necessities, but he is met with the devastating news that his credit cards and bank account are closed. Zayn, shocked and overwhelmed, has locked himself inside Harry's bedroom for hours. It took alot of whining on Eclair's part and pleading from Harry's to coax him out and when he finally did, his eyes were swollen and tear tracks were dried on both of his cheeks. Harry swears that he hates that look on Zayn's face and will do everything in his power to never see it again.

Oblivious to Harry's inner turmoil, Zayn says, "I need a job."

"I'm sorry, Zayn. This is all my fault." Harry hangs his head, eyes closed.

"What?" Zayn says, confused. He looks at Harry's hunched form with a worried frown.

Harry cannot possibly stop now, so he rambles on. "It's because of me that you're having a hard time now. I shouldn't have involved myself with you, Zayn. We aren't meant to be. I'm...I...bring bad luck, you know? I carry it around and the people that associate themselves with me only end up as unlucky as I am. I'm sorry...You deserve someone else. A person that your family likes and will not be the reason that you are disowned."

"Don't you ever say that again, Harry Styles," Zayn cries passionately, tugging Harry into his arms and wrapping him in a solid hug. "You're not the one at fault for any of this! I'm not blaming you, so please don't blame yourself."

Harry sighs, ashamed of himself.

"I love you, Harry. I chose you because I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without seeing your smiles and having your kisses and hugs. I deserve you, I know and believe that to be true."

Zayn places his index finger underneath Harry's chin to tilt his head up. Zayn smiles at Harry and presses kisses all over his face. "I don't mind if my dream to be a singer or songwriter will be put on hold first as we slowly build our life together. It's alright as long as I have you beside me, holding your hand as we go along this crazy journey."

"Oh, Zayn," Harry cries, tucking his face on the crook between Zayn's neck and shoulder. "I hope you're ready because I'm going to hold on so tight. Don't want to let you go."

Zayn laughs, eyes shining. He pats his boyfriend's back and squeezes him a little tighter. "Wouldn't want it any other way, my love."


	18. 17 - Homesick

A couple of months later and it seems as though Zayn is still stuck in a bit of a funk. He is quite listless, always staring at a blank telly with the remote dangling in his hand. Sometimes, Harry catches him reading the local newspaper, an angry expression on his face, or furiously scribbling down words into his writing journal. Also, he hasn't been making any other attempts to try and pursue his career in music or even get a job in other marketing companies. Harry is greatly concerned by this sudden change in Zayn and continues to worry each day, wondering how he can be of any help to the older man.

On the other hand, Harry has been working harder than ever to support both himself and Zayn in surviving every single day. He has resigned in his voluntary work at _Sweaterpaws_ to add an afternoon shift at a quaint diner as a bus boy and dishwasher. So, all in all, Harry's days are like this: opening shift at the bakery every 5 am, baking breads and pastries until 11, then by 12:30 pm he's busy collecting dishes from tables and washing them manually until 5 and, lastly, by 7pm, Harry is in the beer garden, training and supervising new workers. Harry's hectic days end around midnight, sometimes earlier, and his only reprieve is cuddling close to Zayn in his sleep, feeling him soft and warm and inhaling his scent, contentment coursing through the younger man's veins. Here in the circle of Zayn's arms, Harry's troubling thoughts are quiet, unable to strike.

Today, Harry is lucky to have the morning off because _The Bread Corner_ is closed for the day. The very first thing in Harry's list is to eat breakfast with Zayn and in his excitement, he has woken up early eventhough he has only been asleep for a meager 4 hours. Despite the lack of sleep, Harry is energetic. The menu for breakfast today is very different and Harry hopes Zayn will like it - Filipino cuisine.

Pulling out a few vacuum sealed packs out of the cupboard, two dyed red eggs, tomatoes and some leftover white rice, Harry sets about preparing their meal. First, he minces some garlic cloves and throws them into the hot skillet that is drizzled with a bit of vegetable oil. He lets them fry a bit, but not to the point of burning them, and then adds the rice, sautéeing and seasoning it. Once the fried rice is done, Harry puts them into two plates. He moves on to frying the dried fish then, making sure not to let it cook for very long because it'll get overcooked and hard instead of flaky. In the meantime, he prepares the salted eggs, cutting them in half, scooping them out and laying them beside the sliced tomatoes. By the time Harry is putting the fish on the plate, Zayn is sleepily entering the kitchen.

"Hazza? You're still here?" The older man says, voice rough. He looks around the place with a confused pout. "What's that smell?"

Harry laughs. " _Tuyo_ ," he answers, grinning when he perfectly pronounces the word. He places the small plate with the dried fish on the table and proceeds to pour coffee into his and Zayn's mugs. He brings both mugs on the table, then handing the small containers with sugar and cream to his boyfriend.

"Gina, the Filipina cook at the diner told me that Filipinos eat rice for breakfast," Harry excitedly tells Zayn once he is seated, happy to be spending time with the older man. "How cool is that, right? She says they call it _sinangag_ \- hopefully, I got that right - and they pair it with salted duck eggs, dried fish or _tuyo_ and tomatoes."

Zayn is listening attentively to his adorable boyfriend, a smile on his lips. He has yet to put sugar into his coffee and is instead staring fondly as Harry recounts his tale.

"Before I got into the beer garden last night, I went into this tiny Filipino cuisine grocery store and got dried fish and salted eggs. It literally cost me less than 10 quid and I got like half a dozen eggs!"

"Did Gina tell you how to cook the fish, though?" Zayn asks, stirring sugar and cream into his coffee.

Harry nods eagerly. "She did! Also, she told me to eat carefully and watch out for tiny fish bones but, ultimately, to enjoy the food. So, erm, yeah. I hope you like it."

Zayn sends his boyfriend a tender smile, reaching for his hand across the table. "Let's eat then, babe."

Despite the unfamiliar, weird scent of the dried fish and the salted eggs, Zayn and Harry has enjoyed their breakfast immensely. The food is good, different but delicious, nonetheless.

"Thanks for cooking breakfast, Harry," Zayn says as he puts food into Eclair's bowl.

Harry puts the clean dishes and utensils away. "You're welcome, Z."

With their tummies full and a few hours more to spare until Harry has to leave for work, the couple decide to cuddle on the couch, savoring the free time that they are given to be together. On the couch, Harry has his head tucked underneath Zayn's chin, his ear pressed on Zayn's chest, with the latter's arms snug around him. Harry thinks this is the best time to voice out his concern for Zayn's recently odd behavior.

"Zayn?"

"Hmm?"

Nervously, Harry pulls away from Zayn to look into his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Zayn answers quickly, eyebrows scrunched together in the middle of his forehead. Without Harry in his arms, he crosses them over his chest.

"I mean, uh, you're kind of...off? Recently?" Harry clarifies. He pinches his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger as he struggles to put his thoughts into words. "You don't go out. You're always, erm, staring at the telly or writing on your journal. It's just- that's not you and I want to help, okay? If you want to talk, I'm here to listen to you."

Zayn sighs softly, rubbing his face with his hands. "I...miss home," he whispers. "I miss my sisters and, for some crazy reason, my parents. I'm kind of wishing I don't because they've been nothing but awful to you and our relationship, but I don't know."

"Zayn," Harry coos, pulling Zayn against his chest. He rubs gentle circles on his older boyfriend's back and kisses the top of his head. "I understand that. You've been with them all your life, of course you will miss them. Maybe, you can try and visit them? It's been three months. I reckon they've cooled down by now. It wouldn't hurt to try and see them?"

"It's not that easy, Haz," Zayn replies, his own arms tight around Harry. "I know my parents and their decisions are final. There is no changing their minds once it is set."

"Even for their only son?"

"When I graduated in sixth form, I fully intended on going to Juilliard without my parents' consent because I just know they wouldn't approve of it," Zayn recounts, a faraway look in his eyes. His expression is bittersweet. "That is why I got the biggest shock of my life when I was shipped off to Wharton in the guise of a family vacation." Zayn laughs humorlessly, twirling a strand of Harry's hair.

Harry's chest tightens. "I'm sorry to hear that," he mumbles into Zayn's ear, hugging him a little tighter.

Zayn shakes his head and disentangles himself from Harry's hold. He pushes himself towards the farthest corner of their small couch and grabs Eclair to put him into his lap. He strokes the dog's fur and sighs heavily. "I used to think like I had the worst luck ever despite my family's wealth but then I got to know other people's misery through charity works and I got over myself. Instead of wallowing in self-pity for the dream that I never got to realize, I worked hard to help more of the less fortunate people."

Harry stares at Zayn with a small smile. "And that's why you're amazing, Zayn."

"Nah."

"You are," Harry insists. He pats Zayn's thigh and stands up to get ready for work. He stretches his arms as high as they can go and sighs in satisfaction when he feels his bones cracking. "Well, I have to go to work now, babe. Try to relax, yeah? Think about my suggestion."

Zayn nods and watches Harry go. He doesn't want to tell Harry this but he does not have to think about visiting his parents because he has long decided not to see them until they accept him and Harry wholeheartedly. Besides, he knows this homesickness is merely a phase like his self-pitying days; he'll definitely get over it and be the best boyfriend to the wonderful Harry. Zayn just needs more time.


	19. 18 - Bad, bad luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too much of anything can kill you.

Harry's beloved _Espresso Yourself_ mug slips out of Zayn's hold and drops onto the tiled floor of their kitchen. The shattering of the porcelain against the concrete is loud, almost deafening in the silence of the flat, and Zayn instantly feels alarms go off in his head. He hears Eclair bark incessantly after the crash, his nails making tapping noises as he races to see what the noise is all about. Zayn crouches down with a hand out to stop the pup from advancing forward.

"Eclair, no," Zayn commands firmly. He waves a hand towards the general direction of the couch. "Go to the living room. I need to clean this up."

Eclair whines but obeys Zayn, nonetheless. The tiny dog scampers off to the living room, jumping on top of the couch as though he has understood what Zayn said.

The dark-haired lad sighs once their pet is gone, looking down the mess of broken porcelain with a frown. "Shit," he groans. "This is Hazza's favorite mug." He grabs the broom and dustpan to clean up and makes quick work of it. Afterwards, he deposits the broken pieces of the mug into the rubbish bin and finishes the last of the dishes that he is washing, using a bit more than what is necessary of the dishwashing liquid. He has been doing this chore for a couple of months now and he is still not getting the hang of it, which frustrates him alot.

Once Zayn has properly stored the plates and silverware that are clean, he leaves the kitchen and plops down with a frown on the couch, thinking. He is not in any way superstitious and believes in such things, but he couldn't help but worry for Harry because of the mug incident. He can remember hearing about this belief from his sisters that when someone's possession breaks, it means that said person is in trouble. Zayn doesn't want to continue with this train of thought but, suddenly, there is a nagging feeling growing in his chest and it is definitely for Harry's well-being. To distract himself, Zayn turns the television on, flipping to the news channel, which he regrets soon after.

"The only heir to the business industry's most talked about success story, Zayn Malik of Malik Enterprises and his prolonged absence is making waves in the corporate world," the news reporter starts. Beside the man's face on the screen is a picture of Zayn taken a couple of months before the destructive family dinner with Harry, his very last paparazzi shot before he has been disowned. Despite the anger and shame bubbling inside him by the sight of himself in the news, Zayn decides to continue watching.

"Rumors about the whereabouts of the young Malik Enterprises Vice President have started piling up. Some business analysts say that Zayn Malik's sudden absence is merely a strategic break from his hectic schedule and that he will be back soon enough to finalize the transfer of the CEO title from his father to himself. However, some insiders that are close to the Malik family claim that the young man is busy preparing for a big event in his life and this involves his girlfriend, supermodel Gigi Hadid. It seems as though the couple are gearing up to taking the next level of their fairytale relationship..."

Angrily, Zayn forcefully pushes the power button of the remote control in his hand, abruptly turning the telly off. He is shaking with fury, face turning red. How dare they assume things about his life? If there is anything that Zayn loathes about his position in the family business is that it places him under the glaring spotlight. It is terrible being in the eyes of the unrelenting media, which is constantly on his back for every little thing he does, scrutinizing him closely, like he is a fascinating specimen underneath a microscope.

For years, Zayn has tried his best to avoid being in the limelight and letting his parents do all the press conferences and such. Gigi hates it. She always tells him to go out more, that he should be the one to give the opening remarks and speeches at events for more publicity, and to attend more social gatherings, like awards shows, etc. She has even forced him to make social media accounts to post their photos. Gigi insists that since she, herself, is a famous personality, it only makes sense that her boyfriend should be one, too. So, Zayn has tried doing exactly what Gigi wants, but it did not last long because it is just not what Zayn wants for himself.

Suddenly, marimba starts to play out of nowhere. It takes Zayn a couple of seconds to get his bearings and realize that his mobile phone is ringing. He springs into action then, running to the dining table to fetch his ringing device. He pushes the sleep button of the phone and sees an unknown number written across the screen. Hesitantly, he swipes to the right to answer.

"Hello?"

"Ah, yes. Is this Mr. Zayn Malik?"

The voice is unfamiliar and Zayn's heart starts pounding. "Yes, this is Zayn Malik speaking. How may I help you?"

"I'm Harry Styles' boss, Gordon Shaw," the man on the other line replies. "I own the diner that he works at. Something came up and you were registered as Harry's emergency contact in his application form."

Zayn's breath catches in his throat and he waits with panic as Gordon talks to someone else on his end of the line. He vaguely understands the choppy words that are spoken, catching a "Yes yes, he did."

"Sorry about that," Mr. Shaw says when he refocuses back on their conversation. "They wanted to know if Harry woke up in the last fifteen minutes."

Wait. What?

"Pardon?"

Zayn almost drops the phone once Gordon explains the situation.

"Harry fainted at work. He's at St. Ann's hospital."

It's a good thing that Zayn has enough money in his wallet to catch a cab to St. Ann's, especially since he is still a bit confused as to how the bus system works and he is not familiar with the area, and within a solid fifteen-minute ride, he arrives at the hospital. He rushes to the nurse's station.

"Styles," he blurts out, breathless from the run. "S-Styles. Harry."

The nurse looks at him with big eyes. "How may I help you, Sir?"

"I need to see Harry Styles. He fainted at work and they brought him here. Please tell me his room number."

"Calm down, Sir," the nurse says gently as she looks through the records for Harry's name. "There we go. He's at the charity ward. Take a left at the end of this hallway and it is the very last door there."

"Thank you," Zayn breathes out with a tiny smile. He hurries to where Harry is, almost busting the door down with how hard he swings it open. He ignores all the other eyes that are on him and scans the beds inside the ward for any sign of his boyfriend. He almost weeps in relief once he spots him, tucked away in the very corner.

"Harry," Zayn whispers to himself, relieved beyond words, dropping his body tiredly next to a sleeping Harry, who is currently hooked up to a saline drip. He looks him over, noticing the paleness of his complexion, his lips almost white. Despite his pallor, there is this deep red tinge on both of his cheeks and dark circles under his eyes, almost like bruises. Zayn presses his hand on Harry's sweaty forehead, intending to wipe the moisture matting the younger lad's hair to his skin, but instead takes notice of the unconsciousness lad's abnormally high body temperature. He gasps in alarm.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Malik," someone says from behind Zayn. He turns around abruptly in surprise and sees a young doctor, who is smiling at him in apology for the shock, a clipboard clutched in his hands. "I'm Dr. Patel, Harry Styles' attending physician."

Zayn returns the smile with a small one. "Good afternoon, doctor," he says. "Umm, what's wrong with Harry?"

"It's nothing too serious," Dr. Patel replies, reassuring Zayn. He flips through the papers attached to the clipboard and reads through Harry's diagnosis. "Harry's anemic, which means his blood lacks enough healthy red blood cells or hemoglobin. This resulted in his brain being deprived of oxygen reaching it and then lead to him losing consciousness. Iron supplements has already been given to him earlier and it should help out but they are to be taken even after he is discharged. Also, he came in with pyrexia or, simply put, fever. His temperature reached 104-degrees fahrenheit, which is bordering on hyperpyrexia or high-grade fever. Mr. Shaw was able to give us some concrete answers that we have used as basis to properly diagnose the cause of Mr. Styles' fever. Apparently, they've had a worker who is on sick leave due to influenza and we suspect that Harry caught the virus. We've given him some tylenol to help with the fever and administered a sponge bath in lukewarm water for him, so his temperature should be going down within the day. The saline drip will keep him from getting dehydrated as he sleeps. We will be keeping him overnight for observation and, tomorrow, if he shows signs of improvement, he will be able to go home."

Zayn lets out the breath that he is holding in a loud exhale, his expression contorted in a mixture of guilt, shame and relief. He feels guilty because he knows Harry has been working extra hard to accommodate him, shame for being such a slacker and letting Harry overwork himself and relief because Harry is not in any serious or dangerous situation. His shoulders slump in defeat.

"C-Can I stay in here tonight?" Zayn asks the doctor. "I don't want to leave him alone."

Dr. Patel scans the room for any empty bed for Zayn. However, the latter misinterprets the action as the physician indicating the full house status of the ward, making Zayn shake his head furiously. "I can sleep on this chair," he says, pointing to the monoblock chair beside Harry's bed.

"Nonsense," Dr. Patel tuts. He scribbles something on his clipboard and grins. "I'll be sending a foldable cot for you to sleep on."

"Thank you," Zayn breathes out.

"Well, I'm off." Dr. Patel checks Harry's dextrose one more time and then pats Zayn's shoulder. "Harry should wake up in a few hours."

Zayn merely nods in response, staring straight at Harry's prone form. "Wake up, Haz," he whispers softly, threading his fingers through Harry's hair. "Look at me with those beautiful eyes."

Harry doesn't wake up for a few more hours and Zayn is beside himself with worry, although he tries fervently to calm down. The younger lad sleeps peacefully through the afternoon and well into the night, leaving Zayn to contact Liam Payne to inform him of the situation. Liam is understanding, of course, and even promised to give the rest of the week off for Harry to recuperate. Zayn thanks him sincerely and then gets ready for some shut eye, curling up on top of the cot that the nurses has set up for him beside Harry's bed. Before he succumbs to sleep, he mutters a quick prayer asking for Harry's fast recovery.

A few hours later, Zayn is woken up with a start by a delicate touch on his hair, a soft pat of sorts. He opens his eyes and stares straight into clouded green eyes. "Harry?"

There is a barely noticeable lift on the corners of Harry's lips. "Hey, Zayn," he responds quietly, almost breathless. The younger lad looks around the dimly lit charity ward with a confused expression. "Where are we?"

Zayn almost cries in sheer relief. He crawls over to Harry's bed and, mindful of the needle stuck in the back of the lad's hand, gathers him carefully in a tight embrace. "If you do this one more time, I'll spank you so hard, Harry Styles. Oh my god."

"What?" Harry pouts, face smushed against Zayn's chest.

"I'll change, I swear. For you, I will," Zayn murmurs, not answering Harry's question, which makes the younger man frown in concern.

Realizing that Zayn isn't going to answer him anytime soon, Harry lets himself be coddled and threatened with love, absorbing the attention eagerly. He'll know where they are soon enough.


	20. 19 - Swallowing that pride

"Sir Zayn?"

The harried petite lady that works as the secretary for the owner of _TM Designs_ is in hot pursuit of the surprise visitor to their workplace, her breath coming out in short puffs as she tries to match her short strides with the dark-haired lad's quick longer steps.

Zayn grunts out a greeting and walks to where he knows the owner of the company is.

The secretary looks around their current position and finally realizes where they are heading to. She breaks out into a jog to stop Zayn. "Sir, please, she's in a meeting with Mrs. Deakin and has ordered that they are not to be disturbed. You can wait at the lounge if you want to speak to her."

"I need to talk to her now, Julie," Zayn says, pushing the unlocked doors to a familiar office. He sends a polite smile to the terrified secretary, who is standing stiffly by the hallway, and closes the door. From his position by the door, he can already hear the conversation inside the conference room, two voices engaged in business jargon. He wants to barge in there and interrupt their nonsense, but decides not to because then it'll jeopardize the outcome that he intends to achieve by coming here. So, he sits on the couch and waits patiently.

Fortunately, Zayn doesn't have to wait for long because merely seven minutes later, he sees Johannah Deakin exiting the room, laughing. Next to her is none other than Trisha Malik, smiling big and satisfied. Zayn knows, from that pleased look alone, that she's closed another big deal.

"Oh, Zayn!" Johannah greets in surprise, rushing to hug him. Johannah's family and the Maliks have been close ever since Zayn has known. In fact, Johannah - or as Zayn fondly calls her - Auntie Jay is his godmother and her son, Louis Tomlinson, is his best mate. "How have you been, love? You've lost weight!"

Zayn grimaces and kisses her cheek. He forces a smile at her before looking over her shoulder to catch his mother's expression. As expected, she is no longer smiling, a hard look in her eyes.

"I'm good, Auntie Jay. I've been, uh, working out," Zayn answers politely, effectively answering her query with something plausible. Then, he musters up his courage, says, "Hey, mum."

"Zayn," Trisha responds through gritted teeth. Jay turns to look at her and, as if a switch is flipped, she returns to her joyous expression. She approaches Jay and grabs her arm gently, steering her away from Zayn. "I'll talk to you later, Zayn. I'm going to walk Jay out."

Sensing that something is amiss between the mother and son, Jay lets herself be escorted out of the office after bidding Zayn a goodbye. On their way out, she does not ask any questions and hopes that whatever the problem is between Trisha and Zayn, they will be able to solve it together.

After watching Jay's car disappear around the corner, Trisha promptly rushes back to her office, not wasting anymore time. When she comes back, Zayn is still on the same position as she left him.

"And my reckless son comes crawling back to me," Trisha chuckles without humor, sitting on her chair and eyeing Zayn with a cold gaze. "What do you want? Had enough of that gold digger?"

Zayn is close to screaming at his mother's face but he tries to control himself because he came here to ask for help, not argue with his mum. He sighs deeply to calm himself down. "I need your help."

"I'm not going to give it to you," Trisha scoffs, shuffling the papers on her desk.

With clenched fists, Zayn thinks of Harry lying helpless on a tiny hospital bed, pale and exhausted from too much work and this becomes his motivation to try harder in gaining his finances back. "Harry's sick, mum," he says. "We need money for his medication."

"Zayn, I don't know what happened to that intelligent brain of yours, but I just have to ask, where on the bloody earth are you going with this?"

For Harry, Zayn repeats inside his head when the urge to get up and leave is overwhelming. "Please, mum. Give me back my bank account or at least one of my credit cards. Harry needs it."

Trisha locks gazes with her son, staring straight into his eyes and seeing the desperation and plea in them. The anger inside her, the burning one directed at this nobody Harry, grows double in size, hotter, almost exploding. She cannot believe that her proud son is now a whimpering mess infront of her, begging to have his money back for someone else. Absurd.

"As far as I can remember, I gave you an ultimatum," Trisha responds coolly as she tries to remain calm. However, when she continues to speak, her voice turns steadily louder, angrier. "I told you to choose between that filthy boy and us. You chose him. You readily followed him. Now, you must faithfully suffer the consequences of your reckless actions. You had my word, Zayn, something that I do not intend to break. You are no longer a Malik. The money in your bank account is for a Zayn Malik and you are not him. Those finances are not yours, so leave them be and get out of my sight!"

By now, Zayn has tears streaming down his face, the only indication of the pain that he is feeling because otherwise his expression gives nothing away, blank. "How can you do this to your only son?"

Trisha turns away from Zayn, not wanting to see the heartbreaking expression on her son's face. "No son of mine is disrespectful. You disobeyed us, Zayn. And for what? A poor boy with nothing on his name."

"I love him," Zayn points out, voice breaking.

She has had enough and so Trisha slams a hand down her wooden desk. It seems as though she has forgone all sense of professionalism in the workplace and is showing her true feelings regarding the matter. "I don't care, Zayn! Your so-called love for that boy is nothing but disgusting to me. It irritates me, angers me even! Haven't you noticed? I do not wish to have such a person as my in-law, no. If you continue to be with him, you are not a Malik! The only way that I can accept you back into the family is if you leave that gold digging bastard!"

Stunned by the words that came out of his own mother's mouth, Zayn realizes that there is really nothing that he can do about this problem with his family because leaving Harry is never an option for him. He'd rather go hungry and broke than think of spending a minute without the enchanting, curly-haired human being. Whatever his mum is saying will have to be defied again for Zayn is choosing Harry over them all over again.

With a shrug and a sigh, Zayn gets off his seat. "If you're quite done with your insults, I should be going then. Good day, Mrs. Malik."

Trisha glares at Zayn, breathing heavily with her face flushed red with fury. She watches silently as Zayn wipes his face clean of tears and squares his shoulders. He then marches to the door with his head held high.

Despite the near crippling pain inside Zayn's chest, he manages not to crumple right on the spot. He makes it to the door in confident strides and is about to open it and let himself out when his mother decides that she needs to have the last words in this conversation.

"You'll be back with us soon enough, Zayn. I'm sure of it. Whatever you have with that man isn't going to last, remember that."

Outside the _TM Designs_ building, Zayn fishes his phone out of his jeans' pocket. He sends a text to someone he knows that definitely has the capacity to help him out of his predicament.

**_Meet me at St. Ann's please. I need your help._ **


	21. 20 - A sister's heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn gets help from an unlikely source.

Doniya Malik is an esteemed, household name among the rich and beautiful, especially when it comes to her celebrated cosmetics line _Royal_. She is smart, well-mannered and beautiful. She has finished her BA Fashion Design with Marketing at Central Saint Martins, a renowned arts school in the UK. From then on, she has only soared higher, her brand skyrocketing to the top along with big names such as Estee Lauder, Mary Kay and Chanel. She has launched different cosmetics for each season and even put together a series of make-up contests for aspiring make-up artists. At her young age, one can confidently say that she has followed her mother's footsteps and has become the epitome of a successful businesswoman.

As for the more personal aspect of her life, Doniya never fails to impress with her choices. She is engaged to the famous football player, Scott Cole, and is set to be Mrs. Cole early next year. Of course, her mum and dad are nothing but thrilled to give their firstborn daughter to someone as wealthy as them, a person who is capable of giving her only the best in life.

Currently, Doniya is at Suzanne Neville's Bridal Couture Boutique, discussing the details of her gown when her phone alerted her of a message. She is quick to read the text sent and frowns in confusion when she remembers how disappointed she is of her brother's choice in a partner. She is fully prepared to ignore Zayn's message, however, as she pockets her phone, the heart of an eldest sibling urges her to heed the desperate plea. She sighs to herself and smiles apologetically at Suzanne Neville herself.

"I have to go, Mrs. Neville," she says politely, getting up and picking her bag from the coffee table. "It's an emergency. Perhaps we can continue this discussion at a different time."

The designer smiles in understanding and nods, walking Doniya to the entrance. "Sure, love. Have your secretary give me a ring when you're free."

"I will. Bye!"

"See you soon, Ms. Malik!"

Half an hour later, Doniya is right infront of a distressed Zayn, frowning. She is staring straight into his wild eyes, instantly picking up on his desperation and hopelessness.

"What are we doing here, Zayn?" Donita asks. "And why do you need my help?"

Zayn's eyes mist over and he ducks his head down with a sigh. He rubs the back of his head, says, "It's Harry. He's sick and we need money."

Doniya looks unimpressed by this information. She crosses her arms over her chest, awaiting an explanation.

"I already went to see mum," Zayn forces out once he realizes that Doniya is awaiting a response. "I asked her to give me my bank account back or, at least, one of my credit cards. She refused to."

"You chose this Harry person over us, Zayn," Doniya reminds him flippantly. Of course, she is still a bit sore about the fact that Zayn has chosen to be with some nameless guy over his own family. Most of her anger has cooled down over time, though. Now, she's more sad and hurt that her brother has gone down a different path, one that is away from them. She has always been confident that he will end up with Gigi. "Of course, mum will react this way. If I were in her place, I would have done the same."

For the first time, Zayn catches Doniya's eyes, a fire igniting behind his golden irises. "Just like mum and dad, you don't want me to be happy, is that it?"

Doniya shrugs elegantly, looking around the hospital. "As far as I can see, Harry is not making you happy."

Zayn opens his mouth to retort, but Doniya plows on. "Look at you! You look like a right mess. You've lost weight and your eyes, they look dull, Zayn. I can hardly recognize you."

"Wow, you're starting to sound like mum now, Don," Zayn laughs bitterly. "Let me guess, you'll start calling Harry a gold digger next, aren't you? You are just like them! You can't see how much Harry means to me or how much I mean to him. You are blinded by your money!"

Doniya looks shocked at Zayn's outburst and promptly glares at him. "You asked me to come here just so you can tell me that? I dropped an important appointment of mine to see you and this is what I get? Tell you what, Zayn, you're on your own now. I'm going home."

With that said, Doniya turns around and heads to the exit. She ignores the looks of concern that the few people, who has witnessed the scene that they've caused, are giving her. However, she hasn't taken more than five steps when Zayn catches her wrist, his grip clammy but strong. When he speaks, his tone of voice is defeated, pleading.

"Doniya, please. I'm sorry. It's just...you're Harry's only hope. He needs you. Please."

The eldest of the Malik children, Doniya, is as strong-willed as her mother. Once she has set her mind on something, there is very little that one can do to change her opinion. She has a strong dislike of Zayn's partner, thinks he's only after Zayn and his riches, however, her heart is still as soft as ever for her only brother. Unlike their mum, she can't stand seeing and hearing him so upset, exhausted. She doesn't like the idea of him begging for someone else.

It hurts her.

"Fine." Doniya decides that the only way that she can help Zayn is if she extends it to this Harry character. Plus, as the eldest sibling, she wants to see just how much this Harry means to Zayn and vice versa. Maybe she'll give them a fighting chance. "Go on, lad. Let's see him."

Zayn's eyes are so wide, so hopeful, that it pinches Doniya's heart all over again. She has always been so easily moved to obedience by her siblings and their big, rounded eyes. She has so much love for them and will do anything to make them happy, even if it means helping a total stranger out of his medical bills.

The charity ward is buzzing with chatter when the Malik siblings enter it. Doniya follows Zayn to where Harry is, tucked away in a corner. She watches with rapt attention as her normally stoic brother grins so widely at the sight of unruly curly hair and sleep-heavy eyes. Zayn, ever so gently, props Harry to sit up, putting pillows behind him as support. Then, he runs a hand through the tangled hair, a gesture so tender that Doniya looks away, afraid that she's witnessing a private moment.

"Haz," Zayn chirps, no longer sounding drained. It makes Doniya look on in ill-concealed awe because how does this Harry bloke do _this_? "You've got a visitor."

Harry perks up, the sleep and tiredness in his eyes fading slightly. "Who is it?" he croaks, throat scratchy. Zayn helps him drink some water.

"Hello, Harry." Doniya smiles at Harry, this little polite quirk of her lips. The young lad smiles back, shy and hesitant. "How are you feeling?"

When Harry's timid smile grows a bit wider, Doniya can easily see why Zayn is so enamored by the boy. She admits that she hasn't looked properly at him during the first time that they've met for she is too busy being disgusted and angered by his presence to do so. But, today, she has to say that he is quite a lovely person to look at with crinkles on his eyes and dimples on his cheeks. Although, at the moment, he's as pale as a ghost and is obviously in pain from whatever illness is bothering him.

"Hi, Doniya," he responds. "I'm alright. A bit weak, still. But, I can definitely go back home now."

Zayn clicks his tongue and playfully pats Harry's cheeks. "No can do, baby," he tuts. "Dr. Patel said you are to be kept another night because your temperature hasn't gone down one bit."

"That is because you were clinging so tightly to me all throughout the night, Z," Harry pouts. "I haven't had the chance to breathe and sweat with your cold body pressed against mine."

"Why you ungrateful child! I thought you liked my cuddles?" Zayn teases as he pinches Harry's nose playfully, snickering when the sick boy flails in response, squeaking, "Let my nose go, Zayn!"

Doniya watches the exchange like a hawk, sensing the comfortable air around the two, how purely happy they are around each other. She has to admit, this is so unlike Gigi and Zayn. With the blonde supermodel, Zayn is guarded, always composed and collected, the perfect version of himself. But with Harry, he's the boy that grew up with Doniya, the one that has these numerous lovable quirks and the dorky inner self. And because of this, she decides that helping Harry isn't a bad thing, at all.

An hour later, Harry is asleep again, the medication and fatigue pulling him down under. Doniya is thankful because she needs to discuss things with Zayn.

"Here's my debit card," Doniya hands Zayn a gleaming gold MasterCard and a piece of paper containing her PIN. "Withdraw all the money you need. Make sure you buy all the medicine that Harry's doctor prescribes, alright?"

Zayn pockets the card in a hurry before tugging Doniya into the tightest hug that she has ever received from him.

"This means so much to me, Doniya. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

There are tears in Doniya's eyes when she wraps her own arms around her brother, squeezing him gently. "Diidii's got you," she mumbles into his shoulder, promising to herself that whatever happens in the future, she'll always listen to her heart, the one that loves her brother unconditionally.


	22. 21 - Smooth sailing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a filler chapter to ease into the present situation of Harry and Zayn. Sorry if it's shitty and short af.

Harry's hospitalization has been a huge turning point in Zayn's life. After seeing Harry so pale and practically lifeless on top of a hospital bed, the then horrified Zayn has realized that in order to make the two of them work, he has to clean up his act. He has to get up and work. He has to share in the burden of paying the bills and rent and in the buying of groceries. He has to talk to Harry and not merely grunt his answers when the younger lad asks about his day. He has to go out and interact with the world. He has to live and not to merely exist. Furthermore, he has to move on because moping and feeling sorry for himself won't do him or Harry any good. If anything, it only serves to hurt him more and cause unnecessary problems to the life that he is building with Harry.

Zayn knows how much Harry has suffered with the family that adopted him and he feels truly ashamed that ever since he has lived with Harry, he has only added more pain - literal ones at that, which landed the poor lad into the hospital - to his life. He vows to never do it again, especially if it could be avoided.

So, Zayn has straightened himself out.

After assuring that Harry is a hundred and one percent healed and restored to his full health, Zayn has stepped up his game. He has passed countless resumés to various businesses and companies. At first, everything has gone according to how Zayn has wished it to be. He has received a call and a schedule for a job interview from almost every firm that has his CV. Unfortunately, he has ended up turning down every single one of the offers because they all had one goal in mind: to use him, a Malik and the sole heir to one of the biggest companies in the world, Malik Enterprises, as a sort of blueprint, a textbook of sorts as basis for their management and marketing. The companies want him to apply what he has learned on his family's business to their own standard operating procedures. In other words, they want Zayn to spill the trade secrets of the Malik Enterprises, which made it successful. As a result, Zayn has turned all of them down because as much as his family have hurt him, he will never betray their trust like that.

Despite the hurdles that Zayn has experienced, he has remained hopeful. That is why he is over the moon when, a couple of months later, in a wonderful stroke of luck, Zayn is accepted into a small recording company, shortlisted as a songwriter. Although the company is not that well-known in a large scale, they have a roster of artists that are famous locally, having a good amount of following along the country. One of them is a lovely young lady named Cher Lloyd and if Zayn is lucky enough, she'll be the one to bring life to his words.

With Harry's endless support, Zayn has landed two decent part-time jobs while waiting for his songwriting dreams to take root. His first one is on a local grocery store, Farmfoods, where he works on the stocks and inventories every night and substitutes as a bagger during the afternoons. While, every early morning, he delivers newspapers to different stands along the city. Although not that used to manual labor, Zayn has been quite the hardworker, able to juggle his time wisely that, despite working two jobs, he has never once missed eating breakfast, lunch and dinner with Harry and Eclair.

As per doctor's orders, Harry, on the other hand, is recommended to cut down on the stress factors in his life. So, with much pleading on Zayn's part, Harry has quit his job as a dishwasher and a bartender in Liam's beer garden because, instead, he is now a full-time training supervisor, which means that he now works as a baker in the mornings and trains new employees in the afternoons, basically freeing his 4pm and onwards. All of his evenings and free time is mostly spent watching the telly and waiting patiently for his boyfriend with a lovingly prepared home-cooked meal on their table.

Their relationship is not perfect and they do argue sometimes, especially when Harry sees new cuts and bruises on Zayn's skin (courtesy of his job stacking heavy crates and boxes on the stock room) and blames himself for letting the lad do hard work. During those times when Harry is in a bad place, his shoulders slumped and his lips weighed down by a frown, Zayn does his best to understand where the young lad is coming from. Instead of fighting fire with fire, Zayn finds it easier to patiently console his boyfriend and tirelessly assure him that none of these things are his fault, that Zayn loves him so much that is why he works diligently to put food in their table and keep the roof in their heads.

Vice versa, whenever a news related to him or his family reaches his ears, whether it be good or bad (mostly, they are the worst), Zayn gets into a period of utter silence, often unreachable and blank in his anger. So, Harry - sweet, lovely boy - merely showers him with the same amount of patience, care and love until he feels no longer bothered by the blatant manipulation of media regarding his whereabouts and familial relationship.

Zayn and Harry truly are soulmates, just like what Liam often says. They balance each other out and have the deepest understanding of each other's personality. Zayn is the yin to Harry's yang. The other half of his soul. They are not only boyfriends, but also best friends and partners in crime.

And after four blissful years of being together, Zayn is ready for Harry to be his husband.


	23. 22 - Halcyon

Two suspicious looking men enter the store with obvious purpose. They look around, discreetly eyeing every single customer inside the brightly lit area until one of the bloke's eyes catch sight of Harry's and he winks, making the curly-haired brunette lower his head. After a few more minutes, they converse with their heads leaned close to each other before they both go their separate way. The taller of the two enters the aisle infront of him while the other bloke - the one who winked at Harry - walks to the farthest aisle.

Harry watches the lad as he disappears, a feeling of fright crawling up his spine. He fidgets on his seat by the waiting area, wishing Zayn would come out of the employee lounge faster.

Early this afternoon, Zayn has texted Harry to drop by his work because he has made a dinner reservation for the two of them. Harry has been so excited, practically buzzing, as he drops Eclair at Liam's place, thankful that the lad has accepted dogsitting on such a short notice. Today is their fourth anniversary and a dinner with Zayn is the best way with which they can celebrate this special day. Fast forward to a few hours later and Harry is waiting for Zayn inside the grocery store, watching carefully as two strange lads circle the place with intent.

Harry shakes his legs in nervousness because after seemingly scoping the place, the blokes emerge out of the aisles and stand by the baggage deposit counter. With the closing time of Farmfoods nearing, Harry scans the grocery store to check the number of people that are still inside. He takes note of 3 remaining customers: one old man by the cashier and two still milling about with their shopping carts. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it, sending Zayn a text message.

**_Zayn, are you finished yet?_ **

It is not his intention to sound impatient, but the way the bloke, who winked at him earlier, is looking at him right now is honestly scaring Harry. He ducks down to avoid the heated stare, but it is futile because he can still feel those wide eyes boring a hole into his skin. His throat feels thick and he knows he is working himself up into a panic, thinking of the bad things that are a possibility as of the moment.

**_Sorry, love. I'm on my way out. Missing you! xx_ **

Despite the cold dread blossoming in his chest, Harry still manages a soft chuckle and a smile because of Zayn's words, his belly doing something crazy with acrobatics. He decides not to answer, pocketing his phone, and instead waits patiently for his boyfriend to come out. A few minutes later, Harry lets out a breath of relief, seeing Zayn waving happily at him from the dairy section. He stands up to meet the older lad.

"Hey, baby," Zayn croons, kissing Harry's cheek repeatedly. "Were you waiting long?"

Harry shakes his head, feeling a bit bad for making Zayn worry with his paranoia. "No, just got here around ten minutes ago."

"Ah," Zayn responds. He grabs Harry's hand and starts to head for the door. Upon reaching the entrance, Harry notices that the skies are quite dark already. Beside him, Zayn babbles away, "There was an error at the count of the sodas that were delivered today. We had to count all over again."

At that exact moment, a booming voice takes over the grocery store. Harry falters, his knees knocking together in fear.

"This is a robbery. Everyone get the fuck down or I'll shoot!"

Harry doesn't even have the time or the sense to look behind him and check who declared the crime. Zayn immediately pushes Harry down with him and the younger lad shakily lifts his hands up, crossing them over his head. He whimpers in the cage of his arms, his long hair covering most of his face. Beside him, Zayn whispers soothing words.

"It's alright, love. As long as we stay down and let them take what they want to take, we're good, okay?"

"Give us the money, pretty girl," one of the robbers bark. The _ding!_ of the cashier drawer follows suit and then the sounds of coins clattering around. Harry assumes the pink-haired young lady by the check-out counter is putting the money into a bag or something. He pushes his head lower against the cold floor, terrified beyond belief, praying that this is over soon.

Unfortunately for the couple, footsteps approach them and then one of the blokes are nudging Harry's side with the tip of his trainers. "Get up, curly."

Zayn curses under his breath as Harry stands up with his eyes closed. "No, not him," Zayn growls, which makes Harry's eyes shoot open in surprise. The dark-haired lad gets up and shoves the stranger with force. "Don't involve us in your bullshit."

"Z-Zayn," Harry whimpers, his blood running cold in terror. He reaches for his enraged boyfriend, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "S-stop."

The tall man, which is now identified as the one who winked at Harry earlier, grabs a fistful of Zayn's shirt and yanks him close, their noses almost touching. "What bullshit are you talking about, pretty boy? I want you to answer properly or your little boyfriend here is going to get what's coming for him."

"Why don't you work and earn money like the rest of us instead of robbing innocent people?" Zayn replies coldly, unafraid that he is facing a criminal. "This is pathetic. You're pathetic."

The bloke's nostrils flare with anger, his jaw clenching in fury, and the next thing they know, he is lifting Zayn a few inches off the ground, ready to strike him.

Harry gasps in alarm and covers his mouth with both hands. He is red faced with fright, his whole body shaking, like a leaf caught in the winds of a storm. He looks around the store with wild, glassy eyes and, after making sure that the other robber is engaged and not paying any attention to him, he gestures to the other trembling customers to call for help. The bloke with the tall hair by the canned goods aisle nods and pulls his phone out, typing something out before pressing the device to his ear. Harry sighs quietly, his pounding heart slowing down a bit with the knowledge that help is on their way.

Strangely enough, during the time that he has taken his focus off of Zayn and the robber, they have gone quiet, whereas they should have been full out brawling by now. Harry spins on his heels and gasps in utter shock once he spots Zayn down on one knee. He repeatedly shakes his head, unable to process everything that is going on.

Zayn looks up at Harry with bright eyes, his mouth stretched into the widest grin that Harry has ever seen him display. "Harry Styles," he starts to say. He sounds choked up, like there's a lump in his throat. "Meeting you is akin to a scene like this. A robbery of sorts. Although instead of stealing my money, you got away with my heart."

The man behind him grins and the rest of the people inside the grocery store makes an aww-ing noise. By now, tears are falling freely from Harry's green eyes, his mouth torn between a smile and a pout because Zayn is one sneaky motherfucker, letting him believe that they are being robbed. He gasps loudly when Zayn opens the tiny black velvet box in his grasp, revealing a simple yet stunning white gold ring.

"We've been through a whole lot, my love. They are situations and things that left scars in both of us, little scratches and cracks in our armor, but we've stayed so strong, didn't we?" Zayn continues. He is gazing at Harry with so much adoration, his golden eyes glassy with his own unshed tears. "For four years, you've stayed by my side as my best mate and boyfriend, loving me with everything you've got. I'm so thankful for that. You made me live. You made my life worth living. You're everything that I hoped, prayed and wished for when I was young. I love you so much, Harry."

Harry is full on sobbing now, whispering a soft, "I love you, too."

"I know, baby," Zayn whispers back, his own tears sliding down his cheeks. He tenderly holds Harry's hand in his, kissing his knuckles softly. "I refuse to be only your boyfriend any longer. Please make me the happiest lad in the whole wide world. Will you marry me?"

Harry chokes on a sob and pulls his hand back from Zayn's hold. Zayn inhales sharply, his heart beating wildly at the possibility of Harry turning down his proposal. In the next second, he yelps loudly because Harry pulls and twists his ear with a wet laugh.

"You scared me half to death tonight, Zayn Malik," Harry huffs. He releases Zayn's reddened appendage and tackles him afterwards. "But, yes! Yes, yes, yes and yes. I will marry you, you romantic dork."

Zayn releases the breath that he's been holding, laughing in relief. He wraps Harry up with a tender embrace, nuzzling his face against the younger lad's neck. All around them, good-natured laughter and soft clapping is heard. "Thank you, my beautiful boy. My Harry. I love you."

"Forever and always." Harry presses a smile against Zayn's shoulder before pulling back. He wipes his tears away using the back of his right hand and sticks his left hand out with a wide grin, waiting for Zayn to slide the lovely ring on his finger.

Without any further ado, Zayn takes the band and puts it on Harry's ring finger, kissing it afterwards.

"It's lovely, Zayn," Harry breathes out in awe.

Zayn nods. He holds up his own left hand, where a similar white gold ring is snug around his ring finger. It gleams as it catches the fluorescent lighting of the store. "I've got one as well."

Harry presses a kiss to the corner of Zayn's lips and gets off of his boyfriend's - no, his _fiancé's -_ lap.

Zayn follows him with a playful pout. "That's all I get?" he teases.

"That's only the beginning, love," Harry tells him with a cheeky smile that is enough to send warmth into Zayn's belly. Shyly, he adds, "More to come when we get home."

"Congratulations, lads," robber number one says when he steps closer to them, offering his hand out to Harry. "I'm sorry if I scared you back there, mate. I'm Anthony. You can call me Ant, if you want. I'm one of Zayn's co-workers."

Harry gladly shakes Anthony's hand. He gives Zayn a sidelong glance and another one of his cheeky smiles. "It's quite alright. I assume my husband-to-be put you up to this."

Zayn looks affronted, pouting. "Hey!"

The two share a laugh and then more people approach them to give their congratulations to the newly engaged couple. Harry learns that robber number two is Anthony's brother, Danny, also a worker in the store. The lass by the cashier is the store's resident goth girl, Melanie. The three customers are the owner of Farmfoods, Mr. Peter Grimshaw, the father, Ms. Jane Grimshaw, the daughter, and lastly, Nick Grimshaw, the son. They all shake Harry and Zayn's hands, their smiles big and happy.

"I cannot thank you enough for helping me pull this through, everyone," Zayn gratefully says after the introductions are over. "You lot are fantastic actors. Hazza was fooled and didn't suspect a thing eventhough not one of the robbers were holding any type of weapon. Thank you again for making it a memorable day for us two."

Nick chuckles. "Oh, he was quite scared, alright. He was so red in the face earlier and I think he was this close to bashing Anthony's head just to let Zayn go."

"I thought Zayn's going to get hurt," Harry mumbles in his defense, blushing prettily. "Like, for real."

Anthony mock bows before Harry and Zayn. "Only superb acting for my dearest Zayner and his lad."

Everyone laughs. Then, Peter claps his hands. "Alright, closing time, ladies and gents."

Melanie, Ant and Danny disperse to their respective places to clean up. Nick and Jane leave with pats to Zayn and Harry's head. When it is just the three of them, Peter Grimshaw smiles kindly.

"I'm giving you the day off tomorrow and the next day, Zayn," the old man says. "Spend it with Harry. Have fun and enjoy yourselves."

Zayn grabs his boss's hand with both of his, shaking it eagerly. "Thank you so much, Sir."

Peter laughs and then ruffles Harry's hair. "Run along you two. The night is still young."

After a few more congratulatory greetings, Zayn and Harry are off into the night. With the stars and the moon as their only witnesses, they hold hands as they travel back home, sneaking hurried kisses between their excited steps.

"Oh and before I forget," Harry murmurs breathlessly when they are lying on their tiny bed, their bare skins sticky and flushed. He takes his arm off of his eyes and lifts himself up to glance at his fiancé. "Happy 4th anniversary, Zayn."

Zayn looks up from his careful worship of Harry's pretty penis, his lips extra plump and glistening with saliva and pre-cum. He licks his bottom lip and grins wickedly. "Happy 4th anniversary, Haz. We'll be celebrating all night long, yeah?"

Harry moans, dropping his head onto the pillow. "Y-yeah, sounds - ungh - great."


	24. 23 - Poor baby

Weeks have passed since the night of Zayn's marriage proposal and Harry thinks he's coming down with something. A few days back, Harry has fallen into a strange condition, where he is always nauseous and more often than not, he ends up on his knees infront of the toilet, spilling the contents of his stomach into it. Added to that is his constant state of lethargy, his energy low and his eyes heavy, even when he isn't doing anything strenuous. At work, he has been caught napping at every opportunity and space possible multiple times and, at first, his acquiantances laugh at him but now, it isn't even amusing anymore. Harry's co-workers are worried for him and has repeatedly brought up the need for the lad to go to the doctor's. Harry, on the other hand, has repeatedly tried assuring them that he is only sick with a common cold, perhaps a bit of influenza, but he isn't fooling anybody.

Today, in the wee hours of the morning, Harry is woken up from his fitful sleep by the strong urge to vomit. He tries to quell it by repeatedly swallowing, but it just doesn't go away. So, in the end, Harry reluctantly pulls himself away from a dozing Zayn and sprints to the bathroom. He barely manages to make it in time for his throat to convulse and he's retching into the toilet, tears of pain gathering in the corner of his eyes. He gasps for breath everytime he can, his trembling hands bearing the weight of his weakened body.

"Haz?" Zayn ventures into the bathroom, scratching his bare side and yawning loudly. He is woken up by the sounds of Harry being sick and wants to know what is happening. He panics when he sets his sight on his fiancé, who is slumped on the toilet. He kneels beside Harry and gathers his body close. "Oh my god, Harry! What happened?"

The younger lad groans in pain. "S-sorry for waking you up. Feeling, ungh, ill."

"Nonsense," Zayn tuts before taking care of his ailing lover. First things first, he props Harry against the wall and flushes the toilet. He then grabs a face towel from the cupboard, turns the faucet to cold and runs the cloth underneath the water. He wrings out the excess liquid before kneeling infront of Harry once again. Because of their limited space, Zayn is pressed close against his lad, but he does his best to not crowd him so much in fear that he'll get suffocated and grow nauseous again. Gently, he runs the wet cloth all over Harry's face and neck, making sure to clean him well. Afterwards, he rummages through their first aid kit for a hair tie to use. Triumphantly, he pulls out a green elastic and uses it to gather Harry's hair behind his head, tying it into a loose bun.

"Feeling any better?" Zayn presses a kiss to both of Harry's flushed cheeks. Harry nods slightly.

"Can you stand up, love?"

Harry attempts to stand up on his own. However, he ends up holding onto Zayn for support when he falters. "I need a bit of help. My legs are shaking."

An expression of worry crosses Zayn's face. He furrows his eyebrows and gently helps Harry to get up. He uses his bare foot to close the toilet seat and then proceeds to sit Harry on top of it. He grabs the mouthwash, pours the right amount into the bottle's cap and gives it to Harry. "Here you go, Haz."

There's comfortable silence between the couple as Harry cleanses his mouth with Listerine, only the sounds of the liquid being swished around inside Harry's mouth is heard. With Zayn's help once again, Harry spits the liquid into the sink, wincing when he sees his weary reflection on the mirror.

He turns to Zayn with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Zayn."

Zayn pecks the tip of Harry's nose. "You're welcome."

They go back to the bedroom, where Zayn changes Harry's sweaty shirt with a clean one. He tosses the soiled clothes into the hamper and dresses himself with his delivery uniform: a shirt with the company logo and a pair of jeans. He runs a hand on his head, feeling the soft buzz of his newly shaved style. When he refocuses back on Harry, he sees the lad curled up in bed, breathing deeply with his eyes closed, obviously on the verge of slumber.

Reluctantly, Zayn pats Harry's thighs to rouse him so he can say his goodbyes. "Babe, I gotta go to work now. I'll be back around 8. Want me to get you your favorite sandwich?"

Harry's eyes crack open halfway, a sleepy smile on his lips. "With avocado? And mayo?"

Zayn's eyebrows nearly reach his hairline with how high they are in surprise; Harry _loathes_ avocadoes and mayonnaise, swears they are the creations of Satan himself. He scratches the side of his head in confusion. "Erm, are you sure about that, love?"

"Yeah, I've been craving for some tomato bacon sandwich, but add garlic mayo and avocado slices into it, okay?" Harry absolutely gushes, his little smile growing into a grin. If he isn't so drained and sickly, Zayn knows for sure that he'd be bouncing on the bed with excitement.

Zayn stares at Harry thoughtfully, trying to find a concrete reason as to why his mayo-hating, avocado-destroyer fiancé suddenly craves for some. When he comes up with nothing but a slight headache, he shrugs it off and nods. "Alright, my love. Your wish is my command."

"You're the best, Zayn," Harry sing-songs, his eyes drooping close in exhaustion. It's a good thing he's on his day off because he looks about ready to drop unconscious at any given time. He needs all the rest that he can get.

"I know," Zayn chuckles. He bends down and kisses Harry sweetly. "Go back to sleep. I'll be back before you know it. I love you."

Past 7 in the morning, Harry wakes up from his nap, leisurely stretching a bit and smothering a yawn behind his palm. He hears the pitter patter of little feet against the floor and grins when he sees Eclair struggling to get onto the bed.

"Hey, buddy." Harry swings his legs to the side, shivering when the soles of his barefeet come into contact with the cold floor of their bedroom. He picks his pup up and cuddles him close, kissing the top of his little head. Eclair yips happily, his body vibrating with happiness at being close to his dad.

After getting his fill of puppy cuddles, Harry stands up, faltering. He sways on his spot and almost drops Eclair. The dachschund barks, looking at Harry with wide puppy eyes.

"I'm alright, Eclair," Harry murmurs, reassuring himself and his dog. He closes his eyes and then breathes deeply to calm down. He has stood up too fast, too abrupt, is all. Well, at least, that's what he tells himself as an explanation to his suddenly queasy state. Still, in the back of his mind, he has a hard time convincing himself that that is the sole reason. But, it'll do for now. When he is sure that the world around him isn't spinning, Harry walks to the living room to wait for Zayn. He turns the telly on and plops down on top of the couch.

_"The world is rejoicing for the very first child from a carrying male is finally born!"_

While searching through the channels for a good morning show, Harry stumbles upon the news. His heart skips a few beats at the anchorwoman's words and, unconsciously, he tightens his grip on Eclair. Somehow, he knows that he should listen more to this. He licks his suddenly dry lips while his shaky free hand turns the volume up.

_"A bouncing baby girl is the newest addition to Grant and Michael Fulton's little family. She is born last June 15, around 3 in the afternoon at St. Mary's Hospital. It can be remembered that last year, when the news of Michael Fulton's pregnancy was announced, people from all over the world responded positively, patiently following his progress and sending him messages of support. As a result, alot of same sex couples were encouraged to start their own families and now, we are looking into the births of their lovely children."_

Shown on the screen are the photos of who Harry assumes are Michael Fulton and his husband. The pregnant lad is photographed smiling widely at every single shot as he walks around different parts of the country, showing off his precious baby bump. Unconsciously, Harry puts a hand over his own stomach, a fluttering feeling over taking his whole being as countless thoughts bombarded his mind. What if he's just like Michael Fulton? What if he can give Zayn and himself their own family?

_"When asked if he'll go through the pregnancy once again, the Irish lad laughs gently and admits that despite the constant nausea, lethargy, cravings, food aversions, weak bladder and swollen limbs, he'd gladly carry their second child again because nothing compares to the joy that one is able to feel once he holds his newborn in his arms."_

A few more words are said by the woman on the telly, but to Harry they are merely background noise. Nausea, lethargy, cravings - he has them all and the possibility that he can carry is not that far-fetched. Wide-eyed and trembling, there is only a single string of thought running through Harry's head:

What if he's pregnant?


	25. 24 - Life is unfair, little boy

"Do you really have to go, Zayn?" Harry asks as he follows his fiancé around their flat, an expression of unease etched deeply on his face and a feeling of anxiety burrowing itself in the cavities of his chest as he watches Zayn rummage through their closet for his dress pants. As far as Harry knows, his fiancé is getting ready for an important meeting with an upcoming singer, who has requested for some of Zayn's songs to be featured on her debut album. Harry thinks her name is Rita Ora. "Because I think you shouldn't."

The older lad makes a triumphant noise when he is finally able to pull out his favorite pair of designer dress pants from when he is still the CEO of Malik Enterprises. He grips the soft cloth in between his fingers, looking down at it with nostalgic fondness, remembering the days where he used to wear this with his suit for meetings, conventions and business trips. He admits that sometimes he misses the power and money from way back, but he knows that if given the chance to choose between his wealth and Harry all over again, he'd choose the beautiful lad repeatedly. He is far too happy living a simple life with Harry than immerse himself in the extravagance, the luxury, which automatically comes from being born as a Malik.

"Zayn, love?"

The soft, hesitant voice of Harry pulls Zayn out of his wandering thoughts. He shakes his head and spins around to face the green-eyed lad. "You know I have to take this job, Haz," he reminds the pouting young man. Zayn walks over to him and presses his forehead against Harry's, smiling kindly. "The pay is too good to pass up. I was thinking that we can add it to our marriage fund and then we can get married sooner. Doesn't that sound good? I can't wait for years to call you hubby, I'm too impatient for that."

Despite the bad feeling blossoming in his chest, Harry manages a nod and a laugh, warming up to the idea of getting married to Zayn Malik sooner rather than later. "Well, yeah. I- That does sound good, Z."

Zayn hums and heads to the bedroom to change his clothes. He pairs the gray dress pants with a crisp salmon pink button down and a black leather belt. He debates on adding a tie to his outfit, but ultimately decides against it because he might look too formal, especially when the required dress code is merely business casual. He is slipping his black socks on when Harry sits down beside him on top of their unmade bed.

"Zayn, I don't think you should go. I h-have this weird feeling in my chest," Harry whispers softly, his eyes cast down to his lap, where his hands are fiddling with the hem of his ratty shirt. "Like, something bad is going to happen."

The fear in Harry's voice is unmistakable and it doesn't sit well with Zayn, who hates it when his fiancé is distressed. "Harry, nothing's going to happen to me," he comforts. "Stop worrying. This'll only make you sick, love."

"But, Zayn-"

"Haz." Zayn levels Harry with a stern look. "We're going to be fine. I'll be driving carefully and it's only for an hour, at most. Well, technically two if you add the drive back. I'll probably be back after lunch. Tell you what, when I get home, let's go on a date. We can go to the park with Eclair and have some ice cream or something. Just quit worrying, yeah babes? I don't want you getting sick again."

Defeated, Harry lowers his head in a feeble nod, unable to say anything more.

Glancing at the saddened brunette, Zayn sighs softly, feeling guilty for raising his voice towards his younger lover. Although, he amends that it is for the better, because Harry need not worry, that Zayn will be fine and to stop panicking so much. With that, Zayn heads to the front door. The older lad puts on his best dress shoes and runs a hand through his drying hair, deciding against putting it up in a quiff. He is already in a bit of a time crunch as it is. It's already past 8 in the morning and he is supposed to meet his boss and potential client around 10 a.m. Hurrying, he picks up his satchel from the coat rack, checks if he has his song lyrics portfolio inside and pockets his phone. He scans the small rack behind the door for Liam's car keys and frowns at their absence. He remembers getting them from Liam last night when he has borrowed the car from their mate.

"Harry? Where are Liam's keys?" Zayn asks loudly, one of his hands already resting on the doorknob.

Harry emerges out of the room with Eclair and the keys in his hands. He pads over to Zayn and drops the keys into his awaiting palm. He has his determined look on. Then, he sighs softly, squares his shoulder and says, "Promise me you'll drive safely, okay Zayn?"

Instead of answering right away, Zayn darts forward to kiss Harry hotly, wanting to remove the anxiety in his wide eyes. He licks into Harry's mouth, absorbing his boy's breathy moans, and then pulls back just as quickly. He bites his lower lip with a coy look in his eyes, catching Harry's dazed green eyes; He is successful at distracting him. He then pats his pup's head before exiting their flat. "I swear on our love that I'll drive very carefully, H. I'll be home before you know it. I love you, Harry."

"Text me when you get there, yeah?" Harry adds, waving madly at his fiancé. "I love you, Zayn. Good luck and stay safe!"

Zayn blows Harry a kiss before jogging down the stairs. Harry catches the kiss and presses it against his chest, right over where his heart is. Now, all he can do is wait.

Before his hour-long journey, Zayn decides to fill up Liam's tank, so he heads to the nearest petrol station. He turns the car off once he has picked out an available petrol pump and gets out to refill the car's tank. Then, he follows through the procedures of pumping gas into it. Once done, he places the pump back into its place and pulls out his wallet. He walks a few steps and is about to pay for his purchase when he spots a familiar figure approaching him with a fake smile.

"Mum?"

Behind her expensive sunglasses, Trisha eyes Zayn's clothes and car with disgust, even as she continues to smile pleasantly at her son. "Long time, no see, my disobedient son."

Not wanting to cause a scene or get to his appointment late, Zayn pushes past his mother to get to the check out counter. "I don't have time for this," he mutters.

"Well, me either," Trisha retorts, following Zayn. She lets him pay for his petrol refill before speaking again. "How have you been?" she asks even though, in reality, she knows exactly what her son has been up to ever since the day he left their house.

"I'm perfect," Zayn answers, putting emphasis on the word _perfect,_ because, although, money is tight and bills are high, he is perfectly content with his life with Harry and Eclair. He could not ask for more with them by his side.

Trisha scoffs. "That borrowed car and those old clothes say otherwise, Zayn. How's the gold digging nobody that you call your boyfriend?" She spits the word _boyfriend,_ shuddering at it. She is still very much disgusted with her son's partner.

Zayn bristles at her tone, opening his car door. "His name is Harry and he's not my boyfriend anymore."

Trisha stiffens in surprise. Why isn't she informed of this new development? And a bloody fantastic one at that. She almost breaks into a dance and a laugh with how joyful and accomplished she feels. It's about time they get rid of that Harry scum. When she speaks again, it is almost as if she is a new person for her whole tone has changed completely. "Really? That sounds wonderful, love. If that's the case then why haven't you come home yet? I told you that as soon as you leave that good-for-nothing boy, you can come back to us."

Zayn laughs humorlessly, raising his left hand to proudly show the ring on his finger. Oh, how he wishes that his ring is placed in his middle one; That'll show Trisha what Zayn truly thinks of her. "He's my fiancé now," he tells her sweetly, batting his long eyelashes at his mother. "We're getting married soon, but don't you worry, mum, because I'll send you the deets once they are finalized."

And with that, Zayn slams the car door shut, turns the engine on and speeds away from the fuming Trisha Malik.

"This has gone far enough," Trisha swears as she orders her driver to follow Zayn's junk of a car. "It has to end now. I cannot allow that Harry boy to get a hold of the Malik surname legally, who knows what kind of luxury a boy with nothing has been dreaming about."

Fifteen minutes into his journey, Zayn notices that a sleek black Mercedes S-Class Saloon has been discreetly tailing him from a safe distance, not too noticeable for others to suspect anything. However, Zayn knows better than that and is careful to inconspicuously inch the car forward, already looking for ways to lose them. He gently presses his foot against the gas pedal, his car slowly gaining speed in return, as he racks his brain for anyone he knows who would be able to own such a luxurious car. He suspects that it his own mother but thinks better of it when he remembers her deep hatred of anything Mercedes Benz. She prefers Bentley as her choice of car brand and has always felt the need to inform her children that if they ever give her a car as a gift, it better be a Bentley or it'll be a waste in their money otherwise. So, with this conclusion, Zayn rules Trisha out and instead of worrying who is potentially stalking him, he tries to refocuse on his driving, making sure that he's being as careful as possible.

After some more time has passed, Zayn has now confirmed that yes, he is indeed being followed by the Mercedes, especially when he has exited the motorway and has entered a narrow two-way street and, still, the car is right behind him. Zayn is currently going over the speed limit in his haste of eluding said car, his eyes flickering between the road and his rearview mirror as he tries to see inside the heavily tinted vehicle. Finally, after passing a bright, sunlit part of the road, Zayn is able to catch a glimpse of a driver and a woman inside the car. She has long hair and a pair of familiar oversized sunglasses. Zayn gasps loudly at the cold realization of his stalker's identity, his grip on the steering wheel loosening for an extended period of time, which causes his car to swerve onto the other lane, right in the way of an oncoming range rover.

Earlier, because of his desire to leave Trisha's sight as soon as possible, Zayn has forgotten to secure his seatbelt and he is paying for that oversight now. It is a fatal mistake in his part and as his car crashes violently against the range rover, Zayn's single thought is how he has let Harry down; He hasn't been very careful as he drove.

With a sickening crunch, Zayn jolts forward, his head crashing through the front window of the car. Because of the intensity of the collision, Zayn's whole body gets dislodged out of the driver's seat and bursts forth from the wreckage of glass, laying limp against the bonnet of the car with his head bouncing roughly against the metal, visibly denting it. A frantic witness of the accident immediately calls for an ambulance while the others approach the involved vehicles to check up on the victims, careful not to jar them too much in case they broke any bones.

The noise around Zayn ceases to exist and he is only hyper-aware of the agonizing pain that every inch of his body is currently experiencing. Even breathing is difficult, each drag of oxygen is almost like breathing in fire. Not long after, Zayn blacks out, a single thought running through his head as his eyes shut close.

_I'm sorry, Harry._

A few miles back home, inside their flat, an oblivious Harry is down to the last second of his countdown before his pregnancy test result gives him the verdict if he is pregnant or not. He is feeling a strange combination of different emotions at the moment - happiness, excitement, nervousness and fear. It's a bit hard to contain his overwhelming sentiments and he deeply wishes that Zayn is with him right now to share in this moment of suspense, holding his hand tightly.

"Let's see," Harry murmurs softly, slowly picking up the white stick resting on top of the bathroom counter. He closes his eyes as he tries to bring the test up and opens it once he deems it okay to do so.

Promptly, he drops the pregnancy test.

_Two red vertical lines._

_Positive._

Harry exhales a shuddering breath and, after realizing what he has done with the pregnancy test stick, he scrambles to pick it up once again, laughing softly at himself; He's such a dork. Afterwards, he stares at the result, a grin making a home on his face.

"I'm pregnant," Harry whispers, shaking his head with another laugh, a sound much happier than the one earlier. His green eyes grow glassy with joyful tears. "We're pregnant!"

From the vicinity of Harry's feet, a loud bark and the frantic scratching of nails against the floor can be heard. Harry looks down at his beloved pup, grinning wide. "Eclair, buddy! Daddy's pregnant!"

More barks are Eclair's only response, which serves to make Harry happier. He crouches down and picks up the energetic little dog, swaying him around. They look a little ridiculous but Harry couldn't care less, especially since no one is here to witness his silly moment. He is such in good spirits, nothing can bring him down.

That is until the shrill ring of his phone breaks the silence. Harry all but runs to the living room, where his mobile phone is currently charging on top of the coffee table. He knows exactly who is calling him for the ringtone is the one that he has set for Zayn's contact number. Harry takes his phone off the charger and eagerly swipes to the right to answer the call, grinning.

"Hi, love," he breathes into the phone, his cheeks pink with exertion. "I've got great news."

Unfortunately, it isn't Zayn who responds to him. "Is this Harry?"

Instantly, Harry's good mood fades, his brain working him up to a panic just by conjuring up all the possible things that could have happened as to why some stranger is calling him from Zayn's phone. "Y-Yes, this is, uh, Harry. Erm, may I know who this is? And why are you calling from Zayn's phone?"

The stranger's voice is calm despite his next words. Perhaps it is the way that he is taught to relay certain information to people, especially considering the nature of his profession and the kind of news that they often have to give other the phone. "My name is Vincent and I'm an EMT. My team and I responded to a vehicular accident here in Windsor road. It is between a range rover and a white Honda CR-V. One of the victims is identified as Zayn Malik."

It is almost like Harry is dunked underwater and is forced to stay under when he hears _Zayn_ and the word _accident_ together in the EMT's explanation. He swears that his heart has just dropped to his stomach in shock while his chest grows tight and breathing is getting increasingly difficult. Harry's mind tries to reject the situation, not wanting to believe that Zayn is involved in such an unfortunate situation.

The EMT continues through Harry's silence. "He's on the way to King Edward VII Hospital in St. Leonards Road here in Windsor for treatment. I had to call the immediate family to tell the news, however, Mr. Malik's phone only has a few names under his contact list and none of them seemed to be his family. So, I decided to check his speed dial and call the contact programmed in number 1."

"Y-y-yeah," Harry croaks in response. He clears his throat and forces out a clearer response. "I'm his f-fiancé. I...t-thank you f-for calling me. I'll be there as soon as possible."

"Mr. Malik is in good hands, Harry," Vincent reassures Harry quietly. "He'll be okay."

The two exchange goodbyes and, suddenly, there is utter silence. Harry drops his phone on top of the couch, putting his face in his hands.

And in the confines of his palms, Harry cries.


	26. 25 - Brotherhood

"How is Zayn doing?" are the first words that leave Liam's mouth once he catches a stone faced Harry on the entrance of the apartment building. He steers the boy towards the couch on the lobby and sits him down.

As they move, Harry looks at Liam and he sees the older lad's expression of great distress. He turns confused for a moment, until he remembers with a start that it's Liam's car which is involved in the accident and he is most probably stressed out about that.

"Oh my god, Liam. Your c-car," Harry gasps, eyes as wide as they can be. He groans out loud and buries his face in his clammy, shaking hands. How is he supposed to pay for the damage to Liam's vehicle? In light of certain events, the spending money that Harry has will be cut in half because of Zayn's absence and, of course, he also needs to save up for the new life that is growing inside of him. Paying for the repair of Liam's CR-V is totally out of the equation.

Fortunately, Liam soothes Harry's worries with a gentle hand on his shoulder and soft, reassuring words. "It's alright, H. My insurance company will take care of that for me. My car is replaceable. Zayn, however, is not. How is he?"

At the mention of Zayn, Harry visibly deflates, his shoulders slouching and his hands balling into fists. "He's alright," he murmurs, voice tight. "A bit banged up but he's fine."

Liam grows concerned for his friend. It is quite obvious that he is hurting, yet he doesn't want to share his pain so as to not burden anyone with it. "Ah, that's good to know," the older of the two responds softly, sadly. But then, at the last minute, to hopefully coax his friend to loosen up and give up a bit of those metaphorical shackles that are holding him down, he adds, "Perhaps I can accompany you to visit him tomorrow?"

Just as Liam has predicted, Harry's whole demeanor changes at his offer, worsens even. He grows taut, almost akin to a rubber band that is stretched thin, far beyond its limit, his knuckles white and jutted. His eyebrows are furrowed in the middle of his forehead and a frown is pulling his lips downwards. However, the most noticeable, and perhaps rather alarming, sign of his inner struggles is his eyes. The normally vibrant emeralds are suddenly dull, holding so much pain that Liam internally winces as if he has been struck himself.

Liam would like to believe that his younger mate is one of the strongest, bravest human beings that he has ever had the pleasure of knowing. During their first meeting, although Harry tries to hide it, Liam has seen through his war, the seemingly unstoppable fight waging inside of this frail-looking young boy with eyes still so alive, so very green. Liam admires Harry for his resilience, his soldier's soul, the one that does not quit despite the crazy things that life throws at him. However, right now, that courage seems to have taken a vacation and Liam does not understand the defeat mixed in the green of Harry's eyes. He fears that whatever is happening is wearing Harry's strength thin.

The musings that Liam is having is cut short when Harry finally responds, "I'm not visiting Z-Zayn tomorrow."

Noticing Harry's difficulty in uttering Zayn's name raises flags in Liam's head, his need to protect the boy arising, especially since he considers him as the younger brother that he has always wished for. "What?" he asks in disbelief. "Why?"

"He, uh, needs some time alone to recuperate," Harry stammers, face red. It is all very suspicious and Liam is itching to know what ails Harry. But, he is fully aware that he wouldn't be able to do so much as a peek, if Harry decides to keep the information to himself, like he always does.

"Are you sure?" Liam repeats. "If you're worried about the business, I have managers that take care of them for me and you still have unused leaves that you should take advantage of. We can try to sneak Eclair in, too."

Harry shakes his head vehemently. "No. It...it's alright, Liam. We can, erm, visit him some other time, yeah? Just...for now, it is best that we leave him alone."

Hesitantly, Liam nods. Although defeated, he is aware that if he persists some more, Harry might only get upset and totally close off from him instead of open up. "Okay, if that's what you both want."

Harry looks away, blinking rapidly and biting his trembling lower lip. "Yeah, it is." Then, he stands up and excuses himself hurriedly, scurrying to ascend the stairs up to his flat.

Bewildered, Liam merely watches his mate go. When Harry disappears from his view, he sighs and plops down tiredly on the couch, rubbing a hand across his face. "Why won't you let me help you, Haz?" he murmurs to himself.

Fifteen minutes later, Liam is conversing with the security guard on duty in his apartment building when a rather handsome young lad approaches him with a polite smile. He is quite familiar, is the thing, and Liam wonders where he has seen those bright eyes. They're a brilliant shade of blue.

"Good evening, gentlemen," the stranger greets. He does this exaggerated bow and straightens up with a cordial grin. "Are you the esteemed Liam Payne of Payne Enterprises?"

Liam nods slowly, suspicious of the man and his intentions. "I am Liam Payne. How do you know me or my business? More importantly, who are you?"

Blue eyes' grin widens, almost predatory. "You'll know me soon enough," he tells Liam with twinkling eyes, looking like an excited kid, who is sharing a great big secret. Afterwards, he looks around the building lobby, appraising it. "I have a proposition for you."

Liam grows almost defensive, his hackles rising. "What do you want?"

"I want to buy this apartment building and your beer garden."

 


	27. 26 - Conspiracy

"I'm sorry I'm late, Aunt Trisha," a young man hurriedly says, plopping down on top of the seat across Trisha Malik. He sounds out of breath, mostly from the fact that he ran through the coffee shop's carpark in top speed, underneath the glare of the sun, because he is already fifteen minutes late to this meeting. "I had to bring Freddie to my mum before I left."

Trisha shakes her head and takes a long sip of her green tea latte. She watches with hidden mirth while the lad infront of her squirms as she holds off a reply. He has always been so easy to tease. "You're lucky you are my favorite, Louis," she says a few seconds after, finally showing some mercy.

Louis William Tomlinson is a lad two years older than Zayn and they are the best of friends. The Tomlinsons are a family friend of the Maliks. For years, these two powerhouse clans have been in numerous partnerships regarding different business ventures. They live next to each other and often host dinner parties between them. It is in one of those events that the heirs of the families, a 5 year old Louis and a 3 year old Zayn, has met. Instantly, a strong bond has been made between them, especially since little Zayn seemed to idolize Louis. They are inseparable, often bonding over comics, music or orchestrating pranks against their unsuspecting sisters. With them as perpetual partners-in-crime, both of the households are alive with laughter and playful mini fights. As they grow older, however, Zayn has mellowed out to a quiet, high-achieving lad while Louis still retains his mischievousness even as a teen. Their friendship has continued to exist, though, despite their clashing personalities. They have even graduated together with the same degrees.

Like Zayn, Louis is next in line as the president of their company, Tomlinson Incorporated, and is also a celebrity of sorts in the business world. Paparazzis and reporters follow him around as he attends countless meetings and conferences or if he is simply parading the streets with his different girlfriends. The brunette is closing business deals in the US when Zayn is banished from the family and, understandably, Louis is greatly affected by this news. He is devastated, especially since his girlfriend of that time, Eleanor Calder, has also decided to add onto the lad's worries when she calls their relationship off. Lost, Louis has turned to alcohol and relationships of a sexual nature to forget. Unfortunately, one wild night is all it took for his whole life to change and now he is a father to a little lad named Freddie.

After spending years in the US, Louis has now moved back to London permanently and, of course, Trisha Malik has seen this as the perfect opportunity to further her revenge against Harry Styles.

Icy blue eyes glimmer as a relieved smile stretches across those thin lips. The young lad pushes a hand through his windswept dark brown hair and tugs the strands into place. He then waves the waitress over and orders a cup of his favorite yorkshire tea and two cranberry scones for himself. "Can I get you anything more, Auntie?" he asks Trisha.

"No, it's fine," Trisha replies carelessly, smiling to herself as she reads the message that Gigi has sent her. The young woman has just informed her that Zayn has been discharged from the hospital and is now safely home in the Malik residence, attached to it is a photo of the aforementioned lad talking to his dad with a big grin. This makes Trisha happy because, now, everything is going perfectly.

The two sit in silence until Louis's tea and scones arrive. Louis pours a bit of milk onto his hot drink and stirs it before taking a sip.

It's time for business. Trisha links her fingers together and props her elbows on top of the polished table. She leans forward and rests her chin on top of her intertwined hands. "So," she starts. "Have you started negotiating with the owner of Payne Enterprises?"

Louis tears a piece from one of his scones and pops it into his mouth, chewing on it quietly before swallowing. He nods and answers, "I have, yes."

"Well?"

"That lad is one tough nut to crack," Louis responds with a heavy sigh. He remembers talking to Liam Payne and getting so frustrated with the other's stubbornness. "I offered him ten times the price of his bloody businesses and he still turned me down."

Trisha is a tad disheartened by the news. Nonetheless, she believes that they will manage to buy both of the properties from Liam Payne, if they persist and, of course, if they increase the payment. No one in their right mind will turn down millions of instant money, that's for sure.

"Don't worry too much about it, Louis," Trisha encourages. "We'll be able to buy those businesses from Mr. Payne with a few added digits to the cheque."

Louis smirks knowingly.

"Anyway, did you see the pest of a human that I told you about?"

Louis shakes his head no, disappointed that he has missed the chance of seeing the very person that they want to disappear from their lives, especially Zayn's. "It's a shame, really. I wanted to see him."

A few months ago, Trisha Malik has requested for Louis's presence in a private meeting. It isn't often that the powerful woman ruling beside Yaser Malik and their company asks for you, so Louis has readily accepted, eventhough he has no idea of what the topic of their conversation will be all about. He doesn't have to wonder for very long, though, because as soon as he has agreed, the dinner is arranged in the fanciest of restaurants in town. As it turns out, Trisha is in need of Louis's help in getting rid of one Harry Styles.

At first, Louis is hesitant. He doesn't know the lad and he certainly doesn't want to get involved in anything that might put his name and his family's in any danger. However, as the skilled businesswoman that she is, Trisha is knowledgeable in how to persuade people to do her bidding and, by the time that she has finished talking, Louis _loathes_ Harry Styles.

According to Trisha, Harry is the reason why Zayn has broken off his engagement with Gigi. He has popped out of nowhere and instantly became Zayn's _boyfriend_. Harry Styles is a nobody, who has merely finished sixth form and is, obviously, only after Zayn's wealth. Louis has had his fair share of gold digging whores, so he understands why Trisha is terribly concerned for Zayn's well-being if he is, indeed, in a relationship with this Harry lad. What Zayn has had with Gigi is stable and good and one bloke manages to wreck it? Unbelievable. It makes Louis wonder what black magic it is that Harry has used to enchant Zayn.

Furthermore, Trisha is convinced that Zayn has changed while involved with Harry. For one, from being obedient and responsible, Zayn became rebellious and stubborn, often skipping out on board meetings and the like, probably to meet up with the young man. In turn, this has angered Yaser greatly.

Of course, before Trisha has revealed her plans to Louis, she has informed him of what has transpired during the night that Zayn has been disowned. Although Louis thinks Trisha and Yaser has reacted far too strongly for banishing their only son, he soon realizes that it is their way of letting Zayn know firsthand that choosing Harry will be only bringing him down. Unfortunately, Zayn is undeterred by his downfall and has even proven himself to be capable of living without his riches by taking up a job as a measly bagger at a tiny grocery store.

Finally, by the end of this seemingly epic tale of a hero's downfall, Louis is convinced that Harry is solely the one to blame. And with that, another deal has been made between a Malik and a Tomlinson, only this time, it doesn't involve any legitimate business or trade. It's something personal, a vendetta against Harry, so to speak. Trisha has explained to Louis what she has been planning to do to win Zayn back and this is to make Harry Styles disappear from this town by any means necessary. She believes that through this, Zayn would have no choice but to return to his family and go back to being the heir of Malik Enterprises. It will be even better if him and Gigi get back together, get married and, subsequently, push through with the merge of the company with the Hadid's.

Louis remembers himself clinging onto every word that escapes Trisha's mouth. After all, he is eager to have his best mate back and if the only way to do this is to get rid of Harry Styles, then so be it.


	28. 27 - Everything is blue

"A month and a half, huh?" Harry murmurs softly to himself, this little wondering smile on his face as he gazes adoringly at the very first photo of the tiny life that is growing inside of him. Although merely a blob in varying hues of grey and white, Harry would like to think that his little love is looking pretty good, already so pleasing to the eyes, and that thought brings a laugh to the expectant single parent, this loud burst of a joyful sound; Harry's first one ever since Zayn's accident.

With his head in the clouds and his green eyes focused on the photo in his hands, Harry is not able to see the person that is currently exiting their apartment building. Unfortunately, said human is also not aware of his surroundings, his eyes downcast, tracking every word that he is typing furiously into his phone with a big, accomplished smirk on his face. Unfortunately, in an inevitable circumstance, Harry and the mysterious guy meet in a clash. There's a huff of a surprised breath, smirk falling, and then a grunt of pain following their collision.

For support, Harry finds himself leaning against the brick wall while the other bloke has fallen flat on his arse right on the pavement. Sadly, his expensive mobile phone has flown through the air because of the collision and has fallen screen-first into the ground, cracked.

"You little shit! Watch where you're going," the guy yells, glaring at Harry. A flicker of recognition passes through his eyes mere seconds after and, suddenly, he looks angrier. He stands up and dusts the seat of his expensive-looking, immaculately pressed dress pants before picking his phone up and sighing loudly at the state that it has come to. For a moment there, he seems to forget about Harry. "Bloody hell. This is the third fucking time this month that this has happened. High quality, my arse. What a piece of shit."

"I'm so sorry, Sir," Harry apologizes, his eyes big with worry. He takes one quick look at the stranger's phone and winces. It sure looks pricey, he laments mentally. Hopefully, he prays that the bloke will not make him pay for any damages. "It's all my fault. I wasn't paying any attention-"

The lad nods with a scoff. He then rolls his eyes, pocketing his wreck of a communication device. "You got that right."

Harry grimaces at those words and the harsh tone that the lad has used. He ducks his head down in embarrassment, his gaze falling to the ground, where his ultrasound pictures lay scattered. He mentally lets out a breath and prepares to snatch the pieces when somebody else beats him to it.

The young man with the cold eyes bends down and picks up one of the copies of the sonogram. Harry watches as his eyes scan the two-toned image, his eyebrows furrowed. Afterwards, he frowns deeply. "You're Harry Styles, yeah?"

Now, it's Harry's turn to look on in total confusion because there is no way that he knows this guy. So, why does he recognize him in return? Harry is the type of person to remember faces more than names and he definitely doesn't recall this lad's prominent facial features. "Erm, do I know you?"

"You don't, but I'm Louis Tomlinson, if you must know," the lad says with a self-satisfied smirk. "I'm Zayn Malik's best mate."

At the simple mention of Zayn's name, Louis notices that Harry's face falls, his body recoiling subtly. He reads this reaction as guilt. He reckons that this bloke is guilty for the crime of using Zayn for his own gain and it makes Louis disgusted. "Surely, you know him?"

"Yes," Harry whispers in response, shoulders slouched further.

"I heard you tricked him into being with you," Louis continues, matter-of-factly. He crosses his arms over his chest and suddenly remembers the tiny sonogram that is still lodged in between his fingers. He uncrosses his arms, waves the photo in the air and glares at Harry. "What's the meaning of this, by the way? It says _baby Styles_ in here and the child is almost two months along. Did you really just use Zayn for your twisted pleasures?"

Harry's head snaps up and he looks into Louis's blue eyes with a mystified expression. "What are you talking about?"

"This." Without taking his eyes off of Harry, Louis then crumples the piece of paper in his hands, looking unapologetic as he does so. "Obviously, this kid is yours and the last time I checked, Zayn is in no way a carrier. Thus, you fucking cheated on him with someone else and got that person pregnant. You move on fast, huh? Zayn's money not giving you a fucking boner anymore?"

Unsurprisingly, Harry feels this sudden rush of white hot anger coursing through his veins. He has had enough. Who does this bloke think he is? Why is he spewing non-sense about Harry and Zayn's relationship when he knows virtually nothing about them? Quite frankly, Harry is truly exhausted with the way these rich people's thoughts go. Almost all of them are horribly close-minded and often worship their wealth to the point that they think others do so, too.

"I heard that you haven't been a friend to Zayn for almost a decade now," Harry retorts in a neutral tone of voice. He straightens slightly, squaring his shoulders and gearing up. He is pretty bewildered by this sudden courage but, he thinks that he should be making the most out of it while he can. It's not everyday that he stands up for himself. "He has struggled alone, time and time again, with his hopes, his unfulfilled dreams, his true desires. He needed someone but he had none. His so-called best mate is out having a grand time while Zayn struggled to find a place where he truly belongs and, now, said best mate is trying to be all righteous and heroic, thinking he is doing the proper thing by following his idiotic assumptions. It's a shame, huh?"

Harry isn't the least bit bluffing. Zayn has gone through all of that and, perhaps, a bit more, in the past. It has been a painful night with heartfelt conversations when Zayn has revealed to his younger lover every single ounce of all his bottled emotions and hardships. It has broken Harry's heart to watch Zayn struggle through his story, obviously still deeply affected by such, but he bravely finished his tale. And, although it pains the younger lad to hear what his lovely Zayn has gone through with his own family and friends, he thanks the lucky stars, too, because those struggles have grounded Zayn's feet onto solid ground. Unlike his parents and colleagues, who have their big heads up in the sky or stuck in between the pages of their bank book, Zayn is incredibly humble and modest with a heart for the poor. He does not worship his money and, definitely, does not use it to decide a person's worth in his presence. He sees everyone equally, regardless of their status in life, and gives them respect.

Louis Tomlinson, however, is much alike to Trisha Malik in that regard and Harry amusingly thinks that he should be her son instead. Like mother, like son.

"That is bullshit and you know it," Louis retorts flippantly. On the surface, he appears to be unperturbed, but on the inside, he is struck deeply by Harry's words. The accusations bother him. Could they be true?

"They're really not, but you are entitled to your own opinion," Harry answers softly, grabbing the ruined sonogram copy from Louis's hand and then the ones from the ground. He pockets them and tries to shoulder past a quiet, contemplative Louis.

Before the curly-haired brunette can escape, though, Louis snaps out of his reverie and catches Harry's thin wrist in a death grip. His hold is too strong that Harry is literally pulled back closer to Louis with a bounce. "If you know what's best for you, stay the fuck away from Zayn."

There's a sharp twinge in Harry's chest. He hangs his head and doesn't look at Louis when he responds, too afraid to show how much this situation hurts him. "I know," he murmurs. "I know."

"What's going on here?" Liam's voice echoes from infront of the two lads. He looks back and forth between Harry and Louis with a confused expression before his brown eyes zero in on the iron grip that the blue-eyed lad has on his mate's wrist. He steps forward with obvious intent, his confusion slowly melting into an expression of understanding, of slight anger. What is Louis doing to Harry?

Upon noticing Liam's telling body language, Louis drops his hold on Harry's arm quickly, almost like it burned him, and turns to Liam with a blinding grin. "Mr. Payne, I was just about to hand something to Harry here. He dropped some papers, you see."

Liam, although a bit skeptic, buys the excuse because Harry appears to be alright as of the moment. He nods and approaches Harry. "Hey, Haz," he greets his friend cheerfully. "Did you spend your vacation leave well?"

"Mhmm," Harry hums, smiling a bit. It is an immediate reaction of his when he talks with Liam, his only friend left. Discreetly, he rubs at the redness of his wrist and then he ducks his head, all the fight in him gone. "It was great. Thanks, Leemo."

Louis watches Harry and Liam like a hawk, wanting to catch any tiny detail that will strengthen his claims against the younger lad. Unfortunately, his mind is still very much muddled, unfocused. While he tries to listen to the two bicker, his mind unwittingly wanders back to the words that Harry has said. It makes him pause, because, no matter how much he denies it, deep inside his heart, he knows that he has neglected his best mate, that he has failed to be a friend to the lad ever since they have been appointed as presidents of their respective companies. While Zayn has immersed himself in the company and his endless charity works, Louis has busied himself with after parties, nameless ladies and business deals abroad. Eventually, they've drifted apart and Louis isn't even regretful for what happened to his and Zayn's, once strong, bond.

With this disturbing thought in mind, Louis panics. He doesn't understand this cold indifference towards Zayn yet this burning passion in him to take the lad away from the supposedly greedy Harry. It is so confusing and he doesn't know what to choose. So, he doesn't, at least, for now. He shakes his head and focuses back on the lads infront of him, just in time for Liam's introduction of him.

"Haz, this is Louis Tomlinson of Tomlinson Incorporated," Liam says with a smile. "He has approached me with a business deal last week."

Harry forces a close-lipped smile in return, his expression pained. "It's nice to meet you, Sir. My name's Harry Styles."

"We've met already, yeah," Louis replies. He looks straight into Harry's eyes and, like a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped on him, he sees years worth of suffering and defeat in the green of the younger boy's eyes, giving him clarity and a sack full of doubt. Suddenly, he isn't so sure if his involvement with Trisha Malik is worth it. With Trisha and Yaser Malik controlling Zayn's life and Gigi Hadid and Louis perpetually aiding them, is Harry truly the enemy here? He'll have to think it through properly. "Well, I best be on my way. Again, it's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Payne. We'll talk soon."

After shaking hands with Liam and nodding at Harry, Louis leaves. He doesn't look back.

"Business?" Harry repeats once Louis's polished to perfection luxury car is out of sight. He turns to his side just as Liam's expression turns sheepish. Harry feels dread creeping up his spine; he's got a bad feeling about this.

"That, erm, well. You see, Mr. Tomlinson wanted to buy my apartment building and the beer garden for their company's expansion."

Harry's stomach drops. He feels overwhelmed, struck with déjà vu. This is just like with the Tilley's all over again. He is scared to know what Liam's decision is. "And?"

"I was undecided at first, but, the need is great and they offered me something that I couldn't resist..."

No no no no-

"I sold the beer garden."


End file.
